


In Any Other Universe (i still would be with you)

by trialanderror12



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Realities, Grandmaster Cameo, Happy Ending, I promise, M/M, Magic, Multiple Universes, Multiverse, Science, magic is science, science is magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-03-01 10:48:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 27,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18798838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trialanderror12/pseuds/trialanderror12
Summary: After a grave miscalculation that caused him to slip between realities, Loki is desperate to find his way home to his brother.He might manage it faster if he didn't keep stumbling upon countless versions of Thor that are in desperate need of saving.





	1. Origins - α | ᚠ

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by all the lovely Loki pieces following Endgame, perhaps a bit of Quantum Leap in the back of my mind, and our dearly beloved Tony Stark's cautioning against "putting time through Lang".

——α—— 

The last time Loki saw Thor— _his_ Thor—was at the end of a perfectly ordinary morning that he hadn't appreciated nearly enough at the time. It had been similar enough to countless others, after all. He'd woken in the warm circle of Thor's arms, soft mid-morning light filtering through the windows and his brother's breath gusting against the fine hairs at the nape of his neck. Thor had mumbled sleepily at him as he'd tried to untangle himself from the web of limbs that inevitably formed between them overnight, looking up at Loki like a lost puppy at he pulled away and sat up in bed. "Come back," he had murmured, voice rough with sleep, one arm reaching out for Loki. "It's early yet. Let me hold you a while longer."

Any other morning, Loki might have taken him up on that offer—had done, in fact, on many other occasions. Sometimes Thor truly just wanted more cuddles before they braved the day together; other days they would doze off again, comfortable in each other's arms. Loki's favorites were the times when their embrace devolved into slow, sleepy lovemaking, every kiss and caress full of adoration. 

He had been tempted, he remembered, to give in, that fateful morning. Thor had always been the one temptation Loki had been hard-pressed to refuse. But he'd had Plans, and he'd thought them to have an endless supply of that fickle potentate, time. So he had simply laughed, dressing in simple, breathable fabrics and returning to bed only to lower his head so that Thor could fasten his pendant around his neck, as he did every morning. "Give us a kiss for luck," he had teased, humming against Thor's lips as his brother's strong hand had curled around the back of his neck, his thumb brushing against the golden clasp of the chain as they exchanged soft, tender kisses. 

"Come home to me," Thor had said, the last words of his that Loki had heard spoken, as Loki had glided over to the entrance to their rooms.

"Don't I always?" Loki had returned, same as ever, the exchange as familiar as breathing. He'd tossed a fond look with a hint of his ever-present smirk over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of his beautiful brother reclined in their bed—soft and relaxed and unguarded, the way Loki would always remember him best—and then he had gone.

——α—— 

Loki had been planning this particular excursion for a very long time. He had been fascinated by the hidden pathways between the realms ever since he'd discovered as a young boy that the Bifrost was not the only way to travel. The science behind them was fascinating, and—for all of Asgard's advancements—not entirely understood. 

The theory behind the Bifrost was simple enough; it used powerful seidr stored in the chamber to open a wormhole in space to transport the occupants of the Observatory to another destination. But it was rather loud and traceable, what with the frankly inconvenient marks it left on the ground; not at all subtle or fitting for a sneak attack. Besides which there was the matter of access; one had to travel to the Observatory and gain permission from the crown to utilize it (not to mention alert Heimdall to one's possibly mischievous plans).

All in all, Loki found the prospect of traveling between realms in his own fashion appealing. There was only the minor difficulty that it was impossible to tell where a pathway led save for traveling through it and finding out, and that the locations of the pathways were constantly changing. The longest recorded period of a pathway's stability was thirty-seven days; the shortest three hours. Loki had, on more than one occasion, returned to the place he'd crossed over to find the passage home vanished. Thor had stopped teasing him about it once Loki had finally managed to explain to him that the workings of the universe were completely outside his control, though that didn't lessen Loki's chagrin each time he had to call to Heimdall to return himself and his companions to Asgard after such a trip.

The variability of the pathways' locations and destinations were, in the minds of Loki and an admittedly small group of other scholars, the most compelling evidence to explain the inner workings of the universe that were as yet uncomprehended. Loki had once tried to explain it to Thor using the analogy of plate tectonics; great land masses moving slowly in a vast body of water, unaware of one another until they happened to collide, creating earthquakes and tsunamis and underwater mountain ranges. There and then gone again, except in this case the evidence of their collision vanished, too. Each side of the rupture in space altered by the loss or addition of whatever had passed between it, but the site of the collision itself always erased in time.

Loki could admit, in the privacy of his own mind, that what he was about to attempt was utterly ludicrous when observed from the perspective of one man working to alter the course of the universe. But all men were considered mad before their plans came to fruition, and all science magic before it was understood. Frigga would be so proud, if his spell worked and he was able to create the first permanently stable portal between realms, no external power source required. She would also murder him for attempting such a complex casting without the guidance of other practitioners of seidr, which was why he hadn't told her of his plans. 

He extended his arm toward the pathway he had detected, etched into the side of a cliff face, and watched his fingers disappear into it. He pulled back his hand and sat down on the hard rocks below his feet, on a sturdy ledge perhaps three hundred yards up the mountain. He took a breath, pushing down his giddy excitement so that it would not distract him from his spellworking, and closed his eyes. With his next breath he reached out with his seidr, golden patterns forming against his eyelids that displayed a map of sorts delineating the threads of seidr that interconnected all things. It was a form of sight that was as natural to him as breathing, and he reached out with steady hands to begin the careful work of manipulating them.

He was two hours into his work when something started to feel—wrong. Loki furrowed his brow, plucking at harp strings and tangling threads around one another, knitting this together here and untwisting that there, doing his best to ignore it. All of a sudden it felt like a powerful wave was hurtling toward him and there was no time to stop it, a cascade of threads rending themselves apart faster than Loki could catch them with his mind, never mind with his hands or his magic. The dominoes fell one by one, a ripple effect that grew and grew, and in a moment of panic Loki tried to extricate himself from its workings only to find his own thread pulled taut, hopelessly tangled in the pathway's web of seidr by the spell he had woven. A frantic attempt to tug himself away and suddenly everything around him multiplied, doorways opening into doorways opening into doorways in infinite succession, or maybe Loki was the one being torn apart, split into thousands of pieces that somehow were whole and yet not at the same time. He heard himself gasp, awareness of a sharp pain in his chest crashing into him a moment later, and then everything snapped back to him at once and left him reeling. 

The next thing he knew he was lying spread-eagled on his back, panting and staring up at the sky, the sun far too bright in his eyes after so long with his eyes closed. He allowed himself a few moments to gather himself before hauling himself into a sitting position, staring blankly ahead at the mountain before him, unaltered despite the indescribable levels of seidr which had so recently flown through it.

_Well_ , he thought, reaching back toward the place the pathway had been and encountering only solid rock. _That was rather anticlimactic._

——ᚠ——

Loki tried not to feel too disappointed as he began the trek back to the palace. It had been an ambitious undertaking, after all. He should have expected his first attempt to end in failure. But something about the manner in which things had gone wrong made him uneasy. Perhaps he should speak to Frigga after all; brave her fury in the name of furthering science. He knew no one more skilled in the magical arts, after all.

He felt a bit better with that decided, the uncertainty and subtle sense of _wrong_ ness humming through his veins easier to dismiss. He made his way to the training grounds, intent on seeing if Thor would join him for a late lunch. His footsteps were hurried along by the sound of shouting as he drew near, the cries of a crowd in uproar floating over to his ears. He would have thought there was a tournament underway, had he not known perfectly well that there was no such thing scheduled. His unease returned and steadily grew, instinct pushing him to cast a spell to render himself invisible before he could question it. 

The sight that greeted his eyes when he rounded the corner to enter the training ring proved his instinct to have been wise, and filed him with more horror than he had thought it possible for a single person to feel. There in the middle of the ring, splayed out on the ground helplessly beneath a woman with long dark hair and his brother's own hammer hefted in her arms, the crowd chanting wildly for his demise, was Thor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loki's home reality, represented by the Greek letter α (alpha), is a pre-Thor (2011) world where he and Thor have been open with each other about their feelings, and are publicly a couple. I'm going to say it's set somewhere around 2-5 years before Thor would have been coronated, which would have taken place at roughly the same time as it did in Thor (2011). Loki does not know he is Jotun (yet).
> 
> Regarding time in this story: on a cosmic scale, one or ten or a hundred or even a thousand years is reduced to a blip. The fact that Loki will appear in different realities at different 'times' during the MCU can be excused as a rounding error of the universe. In my view it's a miracle he doesn't show up in the Cretaceous period. (Now there's an idea.)
> 
> I am absolutely interested in any thoughts or ideas anyone has for possible realities for Loki to visit/Thorki tropes to explore/problems for him to solve (or exacerbate). Prompt away!


	2. Displacement - ᚠ

——ᚠ——

"Do you yield, little brother?" the woman asked, spinning Mjolnir idly as she smirked down at Thor. _Little brother?_ What was she talking about? How had Thor gotten himself into this situation? _How could she lift Mjolnir?_

Thor snarled up at her, baring his teeth, and the woman simply laughed. "Very well," she said, amused. "I suppose I can break a few more of your bones, first." The crowd roared in approval, she lifted the hammer high over her head, and before Loki could even think to move a commanding voice cut through the noise of the crowd.

"Enough." Loki's head turned, as did most of the onlookers', to see Frigga, rising to stand in the royal viewing box. Her expression gave nothing away, for all that she must be feeling the terror that lived in Loki's heart. He tried to take in a full breath. Their mother was here. Everything would be all right.

To his astonishment the woman snorted in response, tossing her head and looking away from the Queen of Asgard as she responded with disdain. "And who are you to order m—" 

Her head jerked up suddenly, her eyes meeting Frigga's directly, moved by a noose of seidr around her neck that was invisible to the eye, though Loki could sense it clearly. " _Enough_ ," Frigga repeated, her voice hard, and Loki shivered. He had never seen his mother perform offensive magics. He had known she was capable of them, of course, but the chilling look in her eyes...

Was outmatched only by the other woman's. If looks could kill, his mother would be ashes right now, he thought as she flung Mjolnir aside. The noose released at the exact moment the hammer left her hand. "Very well," she said, affecting a bored tone as healers rushed into the ring to tend to Thor. "I tire of these games." She bent her head to whisper something in Thor's ear that made him growl and lunge forward, her laughter echoing through the arena. She turned to go then, waving a hand lazily at the cheering crowd, and Loki couldn't deny that he breathed a little easier once she was gone.

The healers were carting Thor away, and though Loki longed to go to him he found that the itchy feeling of wrongness increased the closer in proximity he grew to his brother. Thor's wounds would heal, he told himself, and his brother would not have the answers Loki needed. He cast a despairing glance at him as the stretcher was carried past and followed his mother back to the castle instead.

For reasons he couldn't quite name, he maintained the invisibility spell until he and Frigga were alone. There was too much about this situation that was off for him to feel comfortable including servants and guards in the matter. He released a shaky breath as he cast off the spell, sliding into a plush armchair in her sitting room, exhausted. "Mother," he said plaintively, knowing that she had sensed his presence even though her back was turned.

She had, for she did not appear startled to hear him speak, and she spun slowly on her heel to look him over. There was something off in her gaze, in the way that everything seemed to be since he had returned from working his spell, and the hardness in her eyes could not be entirely explained by the harrowing events she had just witnessed. "Something is very wrong," he blurted out, losing control of his silver tongue as he ever did before his mother. "I worked a spell this morning, an attempt to stabilize the fluctuating pathways between realms. It failed—I'm still not certain exactly why or how—and it felt like... Like I was being torn apart, or the world was, I'm not sure which," he babbled. "There was such _power_ , such energy there in need of release, but once the dust cleared nothing had happened except the pathway had closed. And then I returned home and—and that woman was there in the training arena, and she had Thor's hammer, and I don't understand what happened but something is very wrong and I... I need your help, Mother," he said beseechingly, holding tightly to the arms of the chairs, his knuckles turned white from the force of his grip. 

Frigga's gaze searched his for a long time, assessing, reminding him of when he'd been a very young child accused of stealing sweets from the kitchens. "I know I shouldn't have attempted the spell alone," he said after the silence had dragged on too long. "I'm sorry, Mother, truly. But seeing Thor out there—" His voice broke, and he looked down at the floor. "I have never felt so terrified," he whispered, his hand reaching reflexively for the pendant that hung around his neck. 

Another moment or three passed in silence, and then Frigga took a seat on the couch opposite Loki, her hands folded regally in her lap. "You believe everything that you are saying," she said, her voice after so much quiet startling him into looking up at her, "though I am certain I have never seen you before in my life." 

Loki's mind reeled. "Mother—"

"I am not your mother," Frigga interrupted, her voice calm and certain. "And I sense something... _off_ about you, as well. As if you do not belong here." 

Loki's breathing had grown shallow. This, whatever it was, was much worse than he had suspected. " _Everything_ feels off, to me. Twisted, wrong." His hands trembled. "It's all so familiar, and yet..." It was something he had felt since the spell, from everyone and everything around him. A subtle discordance, a sense of unease. As if he were pushing space itself out of the way to make room for himself. "That woman," he said abruptly, needing something to have an answer that made sense. "Who was she? How could she lift Thor's hammer?"

"Hela," Frigga said after a moment, watching Loki's reactions carefully. "My step-daughter. Thor's older sister, the Crown Princess of Asgard. Mjolnir is her weapon; it has never been Thor's." There was a pause to accommodate Loki's stunned silence. "You have lived in Asgard all your life, and yet you have not heard of her," Frigga stated, confident in her assertion.

"Yes," Loki said faintly, closing his eyes to fight off an oncoming wave of dizziness. "I have lived in... _an_ Asgard." He didn't quite understand it, not really, but these were the first words that had felt true since he'd come to after the spell. "It is very much like this one, and yet not at all the same." 

Frigga nodded slowly. "The pathways between the realms are not simply tears in the fabric of space," she said, reminding him that he was a fool, for his mother was as educated as he in this matter and he ought to have sought her counsel before attempting his thrice-damned spell. "The Bifrost creates a wormhole, a direct passage between one place and another, but the pathways are areas of overlap. Places where space folds onto itself in a dimension that our minds cannot comprehend." She twirled her ring around her finger in thought, a habit of hers that he had known all his life, and inexplicably it comforted him despite the madness of his current situation. "If disparate areas of space can collide with one another through this higher dimension, then it stands that there is a place outside of space. Two rings of a Venn Diagram overlapping, and emptiness outside it." She paused. "The mystery of what that emptiness contains has been something we can only guess at, but your presence here and the circumstances surrounding it would support a theory that this 'empty' place is actually composed of infinite other realities, coexisting with one another but never interacting. Until now." She reached for the tea service on the table between them, slowly pouring two cups. "I would guess that your spell interfered with matters on a cosmic scale that neither you nor I could comprehend, and you somehow slipped between the fabric of these realities and entered one not your own."

Frigga sipped her tea slowly, but Loki could not bring himself to lift his cup. He had gifted his mother with a tea set for her last name day, he recalled absently. It was not this one. He had spent months on the spells; to make the china shatterproof, to keep the tea fresh and heated at just the right temperature, to add milk and sugar to the specifications of the person who lifted the cup. That last had been the most difficult, and required the drinker to willingly open their mind to allow the fulfillment of their request, but Frigga had been so proud and pleased to receive it. Serving tea was an integral part of Vanir culture, and Loki had not seen her use another set since. It was yet another reminder that this world, these people, were not his own.

"And so I am trapped in a world where I do not belong, where everything around me prickles with distaste at my very presence and the ones I love do not know me," he said flatly, wondering idly why he had never been born in this reality. Had two children been enough for his parents? What did that say about his own birth? Why was Thor the only constant? 

Thor. He smoothed his thumb over the pendant hung around his neck, missing his brother with an ache so strong it pained him physically. "I need to see Thor," he said, his voice suffused with longing. 

"He will not know you," Frigga said gently, kindness softening her eyes. "I fear that would only bring you hurt, and if in another world you are my child, I know what your mother would wish me to do." She stood and came to sit next to him, taking one of his hands in hers. He resisted the urge to lean into her, to take comfort and refuge in her arms as he had so often with his true mother. A woman he might never see again.

"I do not know how to send you home," Frigga said, her voice strangely soothing despite her words. "But if you can recreate the scenario in which you arrived here, you should theoretically pass through the fabric of reality once more." She started stroking his hair, the touch gentle and comforting, and a helpless little sound escaped Loki. He gave in to his need for his mother's reassurance and turned into her embrace, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his head against her shoulder. "With all the infinite branches of the Tree as potential destinations, there is little to no guarantee that you would return home. Were you to succeed, the only guarantee would be that you would arrive in a reality other than this one. I cannot say if it would be a better or worse one." 

"You do not know me. Thor does not know me," Loki said quietly, his voice carrying easily, as close as he was to her ear. "You are every bit as warm and kind as the mother I know, but you are not she. And my own family... They are without me." He thought of Thor, left lounging in the bed they shared, blissfully unaware that Loki would be breaking his promise to return home to his arms for the first time in nearly fifteen hundred years. 

He took a deep breath and pulled back, gratefulness in his eyes as he took Frigga's hand once more. "I must try," he said, determined. "If it takes every day of the rest of my life, down to my very last breath, I must try." 

Frigga squeezed his hand. "I would be very proud," she said gently, "to have a young man such as you for a son." She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his forehead, and Loki's eyes fell closed, a soft exhale escaping him. 

"Will Thor be all right?" he asked when she pulled away. "Your Thor, I mean. That wo— I mean, Hela. She..." He didn't really know how to finish that sentence. He knew so little of her, and she was Frigga's stepdaughter, though he suspected there was little love lost between them.

Frigga smiled sadly at him. "They are each struggling with their father's death," she said, shaking Loki to the core. Odin was the one constant of the universe, whether Loki was fond of him on a given day or not. The Allfather was practically immortal, infallible; he should not meet with the messenger of death until thousands of years after Thor had taken his place as King. Until he and his brother were ready to rule without Odin's guidance, without the benefit of his knowledge and experience and often unbearable egotism. It was impossible to imagine losing him so young, his mother sole regent and his father's two children fighting for the throne rather than unified in ascending it. No wonder they had been at each other's throats. "They will be fine in time," she assured him, squeezing his hand. "We are all adjusting. Slowly, but steadily."

All Loki could do was nod. He didn't know what else to say. Any words would be a cold comfort to this woman who didn't know him, his own father alive and well in a world beyond his reach. "I will make my journey as soon as possible," he said, feeling somewhat steadier now that his path forward was decided. "I would appreciate your hospitality for a night's rest and some provisions." As Frigga had alluded to, there was no guarantee that he would encounter a friendly face in the next reality he entered. 

He opened his interdimensional pocket, that place in spacetime where he stored a moderate array of valuables and useful items, and was stunned to find it empty. Loki had traversed realities, as had everything on his person. But his pocket, he realized with a sinking feeling, was an intrinsic part of his reality of origin. He had access to it, yes, but it was of the universe, not himself. He looked to Frigga, who had divined what he was attempting and was giving him a conspiratorial smile. "I think we can do something about that before you leave," she said, patting his hand supportively.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this reality, represented by the Old Norse letter ᚠ (fehu): Odin never banished Hela and she was sent to the war with Jotunheim instead of Odin, and therefore Loki was never adopted. Odin has passed away recently for unspecified reasons. Time-wise, it takes place very near to the time when Loki left his home reality: within 5 years of Thor (2011). 
> 
> I really hope that Frigga's explanation makes sense. Imagine the plate tectonics analogy again. Two continents collide, creating a pathway between them, but on either side there is still an ocean. That ocean is the 'vacuum of space' in this higher dimension, a place outside normal space as we know it, and Frigga posits (correctly) that this place is composed of the fabric of other realities, existing simultaneously with one another. (I am a total science nerd, I can't help it folks. Shout at me if it gets too esoteric.) [Star Trek fans: everything feels 'off' to Loki in the same way that Worf had a different quantum signature in the Next Gen episode 'Parallels'.] 
> 
> Regarding Loki's interdimensional pocket: imagine it as a pointer to a memory location on a computer. You can store anything you want there, access it at will, add and remove items whenever you wish. If you try to run that same program on a different computer, and access that same memory location, it may be empty or contain different data entirely. Loki reaches into his pocket and is connected with the same point in space, but he has never placed anything there in this reality, so there is nothing to retrieve.


	3. Schism - ᚠ | ᚢ

——ᚠ——

Loki ended up staying as Frigga's guest for three days, using the excuse she had provided that he was a distant cousin visiting from Vanaheim. It took them that long to work out a spell for an alternate sort of pocket, one that was tied to and generated by his own seidr rather than a gateway to another part of space. They filled it with dried meats and hard cheeses, and some fruits and breads kept under a stasis spell. He would have to maintain a constant, low-level output of magical energy to maintain the stasis, the effort for which increased the more items were preserved, so his 'larder' was stocked with a significantly greater supply of non-perishables. Frigga also provided him with a modest pouch of gold and jewels, as well as a heavy traveling cloak lined with runes of protection. "This was my husband's," she had said, smoothing it over his shoulders. "I hope that it keeps you safe as you journey home." Her smile had been tinged with sadness. "If you do find your way there, please give Odin my love."

Loki had visited Thor in the healing wing that first night, sitting at his bedside until the wee hours of the morning. He had memorized every inch of his beloved face, soaked in the sight of his chest rising and falling with breath, with life. Thor had barely stirred when he had brushed a kiss across his bow, a soft furrow forming beneath his lips and a sleepy mumble escaping him. He had run his fingers through soft golden locks and turned to go, more determined than ever to find his way back to the man he loved.

And now it was time. He and Frigga had scouted a pathway on the day he had arrived, some five miles outside the city proper, but on the morning he was set to leave they had detected a fresh one opening in the back of the stables near the palace. His traveling through the original pathway had caused it to close, so Frigga had suggested he use the newer pathway to lessen his inconvenience and seal it to innocent bystanders all at once. He hugged her tightly as they reached entrance to the stables, where Frigga would stand watch so that his spellworking was not interrupted. "Thank you, for everything," he said into her hair, breathing in the soft scent of her perfume, the same as his own mother had always worn. 

"Be safe," she replied, her hand on his cheek and a sadness lingering in her eyes. "My son."

Loki's throat felt tight, and he nodded, Frigga's hand falling back to her side as he turned to go. He could sense the pathway, hovering a few inches above the ground and perhaps a foot from the final horse enclosure. He sat as he had the first time he'd attempted this, clearing his mind as best as he was able and resting his hands atop his knees. The location was different, and the resonance of this reality slightly off, but the structure of the pathway was the same. A compression of the world around them, space folding in on itself, edges knit together in a familiar seam. 

Loki began to work, manipulating the threads exactly as he had done before, centuries of experience and planning making the replication of his earlier work a simple task. He kept a fraction of his attention at a bird's-eye view, monitoring the shape of the weaving as he plucked and twisted threads. He hoped to catch the moment things began to go wrong, to observe the source and pinpoint its cause. He felt it just before it began to happen, just as he had before—a sense of foreboding deep within him, of being pushed along by a current that would drag him down—but try as he might he couldn't see any errors in his work, any fraying of the threads. And in the next moment it was all falling apart, Loki moving frantically to escape the incoming tide; to wrench himself free from the inevitable. He felt the pulling, stretching, duplicating sensation, a kaleidoscope of colors and images moving too quickly for him to make sense of them flashing through his inner vision, and then he was free, gasping as the world spun dizzily above him, full of flickering patterns turning in circles.

It took Loki a solid minute to realize that the world was not in fact moving; he was instead staring up at a ceiling fan, spinning lazily as it produced a gentle flow of air throughout the room. It was oddly ornamented, painted in strange colors with apparently random objects hanging from it, almost like a child's mobile. 

"Prince Loki?" came a voice, clearly startled. Loki blinked and turned his head, his gaze falling upon the middle-aged woman who had spoken. He groaned as he sat up, glancing around the room to get his bearings. A quick inventory of his surroundings determined that he was in some sort of children's classroom, and the woman's greeting confirmed that he was still on Asgard—in a reality where he existed, no less. He accepted her offered hand and levered himself up to his feet, his dizziness from the trip steadily dissipating. 

"Please excuse the intrusion," he said brusquely, reaching into his newly-created interdimensional pocket and letting out a relieved breath when he found the items he had stored in it were still there. He retrieved the pouch Frigga had given him and retrieved a silver coin, placing it into the woman's hand. "For the inconvenience," he said simply—code for _your discretion_ —and he replaced the pouch as he brushed past her toward the door. It wouldn't do to start any rumors and have the Loki native to this world come seeking an imposter, after all.

Much as it looked like home, he could feel that he was not in the reality he belonged to. The itchy sensation of wrongness, though it had dulled to a minor sense of underlying discomfort, was still present. He needed to find shelter; he and Frigga had estimated he ought to wait at least a day between attempts, and he had to search out the nearest pathway. He wondered at the fact that he had remained in Asgard each time he had attempted his spell thus far, when the pathways themselves were meant to transport matter from one realm to another. It would take more trials to know if this were coincidence or not, though Loki hoped futilely that he would not have to find out. 

He was in some sort of farming village, about two miles out from the palace judging by the gleaming spires in the distance. Loki made his way to a shaded area and sat down with his back against the rickety wooden wall, knees tucked up against his chest as he prepared himself a lunch of fruit and cheese. He ate the apple slowly, watching clouds float leisurely by. He had just gotten down to the core when the sky over the palace darkened, a loud crack of thunder reaching as far out as the village where Loki was. He sighed, passing the remnants of the apple to a passing goat and patting it lightly on the head before standing. How was it that no matter what reality he was in, his idiot brother always needed saving?

——ᚢ——

Given his initial distance from the commotion, Loki hadn't been able to tell exactly what the problem was until he'd flown closer. Once he drew close enough for the rain to start pelting his face, the issue became quite clear. 

Fire giants.

The downpour was slowing them, but they were steadily approaching. They outnumbered Asgard's forces two-to-one at least, though on his flight over Loki had seen several hundred more warriors flooding in from the countryside. At this rate, he feared they wouldn't get here in time.

He stalled one group of them with a gust of icy wind, easily piggybacking upon the seidr in the air from the storm Thor had created. Itchy unease or not, his seidr and Thor's blended together beautifully, and soon he had turned the raindrops into tiny shards of hail, not enough to more than irritate an Asgardian but definitely a thorn in the invaders' side. 

He spied Thor at last, fighting back a particularly vicious horde with no sign of 'himself' in the vicinity, and so Loki dropped down beside him, flinging blades made of seidr as he stood at his brother's back. Thor couldn't see him, not right away, but he certainly noticed the assistance he was receiving. The last of their immediate attackers fell, and they each spun to face one another simultaneously, Loki greedy for a glimpse of his beloved's face and Thor with his jaw open wide with shock.

"Do I have something in my hair?" Loki called over the clanging of swords, a wide, teasing smile on his face. He shot an energy blast across Thor's left shoulder as yet another fire giant came up behind him, his mind instantly refocusing on the battle. "Fight now, chit-chat later!" he insisted, and though Thor fought competently as ever (Mjolnir, to Loki's relief, held tightly in his hand), Loki caught him sneaking glances at him every few seconds as though he were liable to disappear at any moment.

The icy rain did the trick, and the first wave of reinforcements arrived, and soon enough the fire giants were beaten back—all conspicuously without any sign of the Loki of this world. Coupled with the dumbfounded looks Thor kept casting in his direction, Loki had a feeling there was something serious amiss indeed.

It was several long hours before he and Thor had the opportunity to be alone, what with missives sent to Muspelheim, reinforced guarding of the Bifrost and their borders, and salvage of the dead all needing to be taken care of. It was well after midnight when he and his brother retreated to Odin's study—Thor's now, in this world where his brother looked a few centuries older and was King, but to Loki it would ever be their father's—for a drink. 

Thor poured two glasses of Centaurian whiskey, then downed his own and poured a second before carrying both glasses over to the fire and passing one to Loki. He sipped more slowly as they settled into comfortable armchairs, his eyes never leaving Loki.

"You came back," he said after the silence had stretched on too long, and the words hit Loki like a physical blow. He reached for the pendant hung around his neck, clutching it with trembling fingers and sending his seidr out into the world around him. The discomfort was manageable, yes, but everything around him still felt subtly _off_. He did not belong here; this world was not his own.

He let out a low, heavy sigh, tipping back half his glass in one swallow and cradling the rest in his hands. At least he didn't have to contend with the nightmare scenario of returning to his own reality only to find Thor hundreds of years older and thinking himself abandoned—yet. "Remind me why I left?" he asked flippantly, relief and exhaustion loosening his tongue.

Thor blinked owlishly at him. "Don't you remember?" Ah, yes. Stupid question.

"Humor me," Loki said with a wave of his hand. "Pretend I don't. Start from the beginning."

Thor shook his head. "That's just it," he said, an odd quality to his voice that Loki couldn't quite place. "I don't remember." He sighed, leaning back in his chair. "It was undoubtedly something foolish, as all our arguments were. Only days without speaking turned into weeks, which turned into months... Until one day I woke up and realized it had been over a decade since we'd spoken more than five words at a time to each other." He scrubbed his hands over his face, clearly regretful. "And before I could pull my head out of my ass, you'd gone. It's been thirty-five years, Loki," he practically whispered, his hushed tone nearly reverent. "Where have you been?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this reality, represented by the Old Norse letter ᚢ (uruz): This reality follows canon up until the events of the Thor movies, which did not happen. Several hundred years after 2011, Thor and Loki had an argument that created a huge rift between them. After a decade of frosty silence, Loki left, and Thor hasn't heard from him since. Sometime in the following thirty-five years, Thor ascended the throne.


	4. Healing - ᚢ

——ᚢ——

Loki woke to a hand around his neck, gasping for breath and scrabbling helplessly at the arm holding him down in a frantic attempt to free himself. He reached for his magic but found it had been blocked, the scent of lead hanging heavily in the air. "Who are you?" came his own voice, a threatening hiss in the darkness of the room Thor had shown him to. "What do you want with Thor?" 

Loki managed a growl, the sharp press of his nails into his assailant's forearms hopefully communicating _I can't tell you if you squeeze the life out of me first_ , and then he was gasping in huge lungfuls of air, unresisting as the band that had been placed on his wrist in his sleep was attached to the bed by a long, slim chain. " _Answer me,_ " he heard, and he turned his head to find his suspicions confirmed; there, outlined by the faint moonlight shining through the curtains, stood himself.

Well. No need to make good on his promise to Thor to begin scrying for his counterpart in the morning. "I am you," he croaked, raising his free hand to stay him when the other Loki growled and surged forward. "I come from another reality. I was traveling between them, seeking my way home, when I felt our brother's seidr at work. I came upon the palace, under attack from Muspelheim, and aided in repelling the enemy forces." He paused briefly to allow that to sink in. "Thor spoke to me after the battle, wondering where you had been and why you had chosen to return now, and I was forced to explain that you and I were not quite the same person." He gave a wry smile at that, tugging at the seidr-binding bracelet on his wrist. "Though this is a clever piece of work, and exactly what I would have done in your place," he admitted, moving slowly so as not to spook his other self as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. 

"I requested shelter for the night, and Thor requested my aid in finding out where you had gone. I presumed that we used similar means to hide ourselves from Heimdall's sight, and thought I could be of assistance. He wishes to apologize," he offered, intrigued by the puzzle of watching his own carefully-masked face for a reaction. He should know himself better than any other, should he not? But he had the soothing confidence of knowing he had Thor's undying love. This Loki seemed to have suffered greatly without it.

"The Mighty Thor wishes to apologize," the other Loki sneered, spinning on his heel and looking out the window. "He hasn't the slightest clue what he's done wrong, has he?" 

The situation was reasonably dire, but Loki couldn't help but laugh genuinely at that. "If he did, he wouldn't be our brother," he said, his voice warm with familiarity and affection. "You must know we will always have to tell him. But he's usually rather understanding once we do, if your Thor and mine are anything alike." And from what he'd seen, they did seem to be. "He does know that he is sorry for waiting so long to reach out and mend things. Apparently he'd been just about to extend an olive branch when you disappeared."

"Always with that fool timing of his," they remarked simultaneously, and the other Loki turned around to face him in surprise as they both let out a bark of startled laughter. 

"Our world doesn't want you here," his other self mused aloud, taking a few steps closer. "Its seidr is sensitive to your presence; metaphysical hackles raise when you draw near. One would have to be rather powerful and attuned to detect it, but it is there." He waved his hand to release the chain that bound Loki's wrist to the bed, though he didn't release the bracelet binding his seidr. "I suppose your story of jumping realities is one possible explanation, though that doesn't mean I believe you," he said matter-of-factly, his gaze never wavering as Loki used his newfound freedom to stand.

"You wouldn't be me if you trusted without verifying," Loki agreed easily. "For the time being, I'd like to get some rest. Preventing the destruction of your home took a lot out of me," he added with a pointedly raised brow. "And I suggest that you go and speak to Thor, though I'm certainly in no position to insist. I know nothing of what passed between you, but I do know that he loves you. And I know that you love him, for—"

"—for I would not be you if I didn't. So you've said," the other Loki interjected. He was quiet for several moments, drumming his fingers on his opposite forearm, before responding. "Very well. I will speak to him in the morning," he said, heading for the door.

Loki cleared his throat, causing his counterpart to pause and half-turn back toward him. "If it wouldn't trouble you overmuch to return my powers?" he deadpanned, extending his wrist.

"In the morning," said the other Loki with a wave of his hand, casual and dismissive. "If your story checks out. The guards are perfectly competent to keep you protected from anyone but myself, after all." And with that he was gone, fading straight through the wall beside the doorway, off to Ymir knew where. 

Loki groaned, collapsing back onto the bed with a heavy sigh, too exhausted to bother arguing (besides which, having an argument with himself sounded like the worst sort of Hel). He returned to sleep quickly, drained from the events of the day, and didn't wake until late the next afternoon.

He bathed ascetically, surprised by how many little things he habitually used seidr for and finding himself feeling rather lost without it. Once dressed he sought out Thor, assuming that if his Loki had stayed then the two would be together (or Thor would at least know where to find him). 

He was relieved to find them both in the study, his entrance garnering their attention. He raised his wrist and a brow, looking expectantly to the other Loki. Thor let out a booming laugh, shaking his head at his brother. "Loki," he said, equal parts chiding and amused. "Only you would enjoy torturing yourself."

"Would you prefer the both of us work together to torture you?" his other self returned, waving a hand in the air. The band unlatched, and Loki sighed in relief as his powers returned to him, smoothing his thumb over the runes engraved into the metal as he took a seat along with them. 

"How much effort do you imagine it would take to reverse the spell on this?" he mused aloud, spinning the rather stylish piece of jewelry in wide loops around one finger. It had been a rather expensive piece before it had been turned to this purpose, he thought.

The other Loki looked up from sniping good-naturedly with Thor—they'd begun to repair their relationship, then; that was good—to study him. "To prevent the binding of your seidr, rather than cause it?" he questioned, his expression thoughtful.

Loki hummed in agreement. "This is only my second stop on a very long journey," he said with a sigh, stretching out his legs on the couch he occupied. The other two were in armchairs that sat kitty-corner to one another, half-angled in their seats to face him. "I won't make it through many more if every version of myself I encounter attempts to bind my powers and murder me," he said mildly, earning a gasp from Thor.

"Loki, you _didn't_ ," Thor exclaimed, looking to his brother beseechingly.

"Oh, shove off," he shot back with a roll of his eyes. "I thought he was an imposter, using your ridiculously soft heart and my guise to wreak Ymir knows what havoc. Better he than you," he asserted, and Loki had to admit he'd have felt just the same in his shoes.

"All's forgiven," he said hastily, before the recently-mended relationship between the two could fracture once more. "I understand the instinct to protect you, Thor, believe me," he said with a little smile. "I wouldn't mind putting our heads together on this matter before I leave, however," he added in the other Loki's direction. "Our areas of study must have diverged at some point in the timeline, and you have several centuries of research and experience to your advantage which I lack."

"Are you calling me old?" his other self drawled, and Loki's lips quirked upward.

"Certainly not. Venerable, one might say. August." 

The other Loki snorted, and soon enough the three of them had dissolved into a helpless fit of laughter, by the end of which the two brothers were staring at each other with fond, longing expressions. Loki's heart twinged. He had brought one pair of Odinsons back together, at least. If only regaining his own other half were so simple.

——ᚢ——

Loki and—well, Loki—spent two weeks reverse-engineering the bracelet to do the opposite of what it had been originally spelled to do. The reunited brothers only grew closer over that time, Thor often coming to visit his so-called 'little brothers' in Loki's surprisingly well-preserved workroom, and it warmed Loki's heart and made it ache simultaneously. He felt as if a limb had been severed from his being—one even more integral, more crippling in its loss, than the blockage of his seidr. He missed his Thor.

Still, it was hard to deny the sense of accomplishment he felt when putting heads together with himself (decidedly more enjoyable than arguing would have been) resulted in the successful creation of a spell against seidr-binding. They worked together to place the spell on the bracelet, and then the other Loki brought out another for himself and they spelled that as well. All in all he'd spent more time in this reality than he'd expected—which was beginning to become a disturbing pattern—but he couldn't deny that it had been worthwhile. 

Thor asked to see him before he left, and then sat silently across from him at Odin's—his—desk for several minutes without speaking.

“Do you love him?” Loki asked, taking a guess that this Thor's Loki was the subject of his thoughts. Thor eyed him quizzically.

“You must know I do,” he replied.

Loki shook his head. “Do you _love_ him?” he repeated, the slight widening of Thor’s eyes telling him everything he needed to know. He offered him a soft smile. “If you do, you should tell him,” he advised. “Ymir knows there’s no version of me who would speak up first. And I cannot imagine where I would be without his love,” he added, reaching up to curl his fingers around the stone that laid against the dip of his collarbone. “Tell him,” he said again, more surely this time. “He cannot stay in one place forever; it is not in his nature. If you wish him to return to you, remind him what he has to come home to,” he said with a smile, for one single moment unburdened by the trials of his journey as he remembered everything he had left behind; all that was waiting for him when he returned. 

Loki gasped suddenly, startling Thor into leaping from his seat, and released the pendant, staring up at him with wide eyes. He’d felt—for just a moment, he thought he’d felt—

“Your library,” he said breathlessly. “I need—”

“Go,” said Thor, clearly sensing his urgency, and Loki fled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We remain in the same reality as the last chapter—ᚢ (uruz). 
> 
> In the next chapter, we'll check in and see what's going on in α (alpha), Loki's home reality!


	5. Wistless - α

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time to check on poor Thor back in α (alpha)—Loki's home reality.

——α—— 

When Loki hadn't come home that night, Thor had been mildly concerned. It was rare, but not unheard of, for Loki to lose track of time and return from an excursion later than expected. Thor had taken ages to fall asleep without him, missing the comforting warmth of his brother in his arms and battling a persistent sense of unfounded disquiet. 

When the sun had risen the next day to a distinct lack of Loki, Thor had truly begun to worry. He'd spent the day searching for him, asking anyone who might have seen him if they knew where he had gone and cursing his brother's name for all his blasted secrets. How many times had Thor warned him that he could easily be harmed on one of these trips he was so tight-lipped about, leaving no one with any idea of where to find him? There was no point in asking Heimdall; if Loki hadn't told Thor where he'd gone, he had certainly hidden himself from the Gatekeeper's sight.

By the evening of the third day of Loki's absence, Thor was positively frantic. He sought out his mother in desperation, pleading with her to use her seidr to seek him out. He despaired at the troubled look on her face, feeling hopelessly out of options if a sorceress of Frigga's caliber hadn't the first clue how to track him down. 

They sought out Odin together, finding him in conference with Heimdall, the both of them clearly disquieted. Thor's heart leapt into his throat; he couldn't bring himself to ask. 

Frigga did it for him. "Loki?" she asked softly, the slightest tremor in her voice.

Heimdall and Odin exchanged a look, Odin's face lined with weariness, and Heimdall turned to speak to them.

"He has hidden himself from my sight. The last I saw of him was shortly after he left your chambers two days past, my Prince."

Thor let out a shaky breath, stabilizing himself with his palms pressed against the cool, smooth wood of his father's desk. "There's more," he said, raising his head to meet the Watcher's eyes. "I know there is."

"Eadric's seventh supposition," Heimdall prompted.

"Matter and energy are neither created nor destroyed," Thor parroted, only to feel fiercely annoyed by the question a moment after he'd answered it. "What does that have to do with—"

"At half past one that afternoon, less than three hours after he hid himself from my sight—" _damn you, Loki..._ "—the quantity of matter and energy in the universe dropped by the exact amount represented by Prince Loki, his personal effects, and his seidr." 

The ensuing silence was so complete that the rest of Asgard may as well have vanished along with him. "That's _impossible_ ," Thor said through gritted teeth, his nails carving deep impressions into his father's desk. "It defies the laws of physics, of magic, of the entirety of fucking everything. He cannot just be gone!" he shouted, his fist pounding savagely against the desk. "He can hide himself from the Allsight; this must be something similar. He may appear to be gone, but he cannot actually be. It's not possible!" 

Adrenaline had sent his heartbeat pounding through his ears, and that along with his own harsh breaths were the only sounds to fill the room. He turned to look at Frigga, and he swayed and nearly stumbled to see tears streaming down her cheeks. "No," he exhaled, the word a barely-there puff of breath that didn't carry. "No." If their mother believed it was true... Thor's knees buckled. He sank dizzily into a chair, his breath coming in short, unsteady bursts and his heart shattered beyond repair.

——α—— 

Thor categorically refused to give up on Loki. "Something caused this," he argued to Frigga. "If it was done, it can be undone. He was experimenting with _something_ , he must have been. If we could just figure out what it was..." He gathered all the books Loki had brought to their rooms recently and carted them to the library, tasking the researchers with sorting through them and determining what Loki could have been looking into. He brought every thought, every theory—no matter how absurd—to Frigga's attention, in the hope that the final missing piece would fall into place and she would suddenly be able to divine what Loki had been attempting when he'd vanished.

The rest of the time he sat listlessly in his mother's rooms or his own, Mjolnir in hand as he ran his thumb over the glittering yellow gem set into the handle. _Where are you, Loki?_ he thought endlessly, unable to set his mind to anything else. _When will you come back to me?_

Weeks into his new routine—eat, sleep, search endlessly for clues to where Loki had gone, mope, repeat—he accepted Frigga's invitation to tea and found he couldn't bring himself to lift his cup. The distinctive quality of Loki's seidr emanated from it, achingly familiar and compounding his heartache. He sat quietly across from her once he'd run out of new theories to share, stroking the smooth surface of the gem in little circles. _Where are you, Loki? Do you know how much I miss you?_

"My son," Frigga said at last, placing her cup on the table with a small clatter. "I cannot bear this any longer." Her voice broke, and Thor looked up at her in concern. "I have already lost one child. I cannot lose another." Thor's grip on Mjolnir's handle tightened instinctively.

"What would you have me do? Give up on him?" Even to his own ears his voice sounded small, lost. Like the child he had not been for a millennium, yet felt like more often than not these days. "I cannot. He is everything to me. And I know that he would never stop searching for me, were he in my place."

"You have stopped _living_ ," Frigga insisted, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "You are not the only one who is grieving. Loki was my son!" _Was_. She had given up, then. On some level he had already known, but the confirmation cut him more deeply than expected. "But you must go on, Thor. We all must. You walk these halls like a draugr, speaking only to spout theories you don't even understand and which grow wilder by the day. You hardly eat, you don't get enough sleep. When was the last time you bathed?" She stared at him beseechingly, her expression riddled with pain. "It is in our nature to seek closure," she said more quietly, clasping her hands together. "It adds salt to a wound where there is none to be found. But you must find a way to make peace with this, my son, or it will destroy you."

"You all speak as if he is dead," Thor said, after enough time had passed for him to regain his composure, "when we know nothing of the sort." He covered the small stone with his thumb, obscuring it from view. How easy it was to think something erased, when you looked at it from the wrong perspective. Like a child thinking they were invisible to others if only they covered their eyes. "All we know is that he was here, and then he wasn't. Which sounds more likely: that he broke all the laws of nature and _ceased to exist_ , or that he's still out there, somehow?" 

Frigga was quiet for several long moments. "If you had conclusive proof that there was nothing for you to find," she said eventually, "would you cease your search?"

Would he? Could he? His ability to answer the question was predicated on an assumption he wasn't ready to make. "I don't see how such a thing could be found," he said instead, sidestepping the question.

Frigga folded her hands in her lap. "Your heartstone," she said, making Thor blink. He shifted his grip on Mjolnir's handle, revealing the gem once more. "Was Loki wearing his pendant, when he disappeared?"

"Always," Thor said immediately, a quiet sort of hope starting to sneak up on him. Frigga nodded, standing and retrieving a book from her shelves.

"The two halves of the stone are locked in a sort of quantum entanglement," she said, flipping through pages until she reached a diagram. "Even though the pieces are separated by distance, they remain the same entity." She handed the book to Thor, who reluctantly set Mjolnir aside to take it. "According to historical accounts, those who shared a heartstone were capable of rudimentary communication, with a bit of practice. They went out of use as a communication device long ago, as more advanced methods were developed." 

Thor ran through her words in his mind several times before he dared think it, never mind say it out loud. "You're saying I could communicate with Loki? See if he's all right?" Thor didn't understand why she didn't look happier; why she hadn't brought this up before.

"There are limitations," Frigga replied. "You will only be able to communicate with feelings, emotions; it is called a heartstone for a reason. It would work similarly to a radio transceiver; Loki would have to be actively listening in that exact moment for your message to come through. Which is unlikely to happen even if he is still alive, still conscious and corporeal, as I don't believe he is aware that this can be done."

"But you can teach me," Thor said, hope taking root more firmly now. "I can try."

For a heart-stopping moment, Frigga didn't reply. When she did, it was with a solemnity that Thor felt down to his bones. "If I do this, you must promise me you will start taking care of yourself." Frigga sighed. "You are correct; I cannot prove a negative. There can be no conclusive proof that Loki is gone save for my belief that it is the most logical possibility. Even if I show you how to do this and you spend every waking moment sending out a signal and praying for a reply, a lack of response will tell you nothing. There is no way to know if it means he is gone, if he never thought to try this, if you simply never made the attempt at the same time." She reached across the table to take Thor's hand. "You could spend years trying, and never get an answer," she said softly. "I will not teach you to do this if I believe it will consume you. You must exercise balance, Thor. Rest, eat, spend time with your friends, resume some of your duties. And search for him when you feel the need." She squeezed his hand tightly. "Can you promise me that?"

Thor let out a long, slow breath, considering his response carefully. This was the best chance he had at getting Loki back, and his mother had a point. What would Loki say to him if he returned home to find Thor had wasted away in his absence? "I promise," he agreed, swallowing down the guilt he felt at the relief that washed over Frigga's features. "But if I do hear something back, if I find proof that he's alive, you must help me find him," he said fervently, squeezing her hand tightly.

Frigga's answering smile carried a touch of the sorrow that seemed to surround her these days. "Well," she said, taking the book back from him and turning a few pages. "Then let's begin."

Two hallways and an untold number of realities away, Loki turned to the same page and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note on terminology: Loki is traveling between realities, which are planes of existence in which time unfolds linearly. There are infinite realities, in which events unfold in infinite combinations. Before Loki's failed experiment, no one had ever been able to conclusively prove that multiple realities existed. The universe, in Loki's terms, consists of all realities united into one; the collective group of all that is. 
> 
> From Heimdall's perspective in this chapter, the two words are synonymous—as far as he knows, their reality is the only one in existence. So when he refers to the quantity of matter and energy in 'the universe' decreasing, he really is referring to their reality (α), which is the extent of the universe that he is aware of (and that the Allsight can observe). In his mind, Loki has simply disappeared from existence, as there can be nothing outside 'the universe' (hence the chapter title).


	6. Longing - ᚢ | ᚦ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moving forward, I will be using a stylized letter L to refer to any ࠋoki except our main reality-jumping one, who will remain Loki. (It grew too lexically burdensome to write "the other Loki" all the time!)

——ᚢ——

Loki heard a rustling sound and looked up to see ࠋoki sliding into the chair beside him, two well-worn books in hand. "And here I thought my days of turning a corner in the library and seeing my youth reflected back at me were over," he drawled, humor in the rise of his brow. He was wearing the anti-seidr-binding bracelet that was the twin of Loki's.

Loki was far too overjoyed to respond in kind. "It's Thor," he said breathlessly, shaking his head when a furrow of concern formed on ࠋoki's brow. "My Thor," he clarified. He turned his book so that ࠋoki could see the page he was referencing. "Your brother and I were saying our farewells, and I was thinking of how much I missed my own, of everything that I am fighting to return home to." His eyes were shining with joy as he met his counterpart's eyes. "I felt him," he whispered. "Only for a moment, I was startled and I broke the link, but... I felt him." He grew sober at the memory of exactly what it was he had felt. Worry, fear, love, heartache. An intense longing that mirrored his own. Thor missed him, desperately, and worse—he didn't know what had happened to him. 

ࠋoki was clearly rattled. "A heartstone?" he echoed, running his finger lightly over the illustration on the manuscript. His expression was unreadable, but Loki knew enough to be reasonably certain of what he was hiding. 

"Yes," he said mildly, thinking quickly. Advice would not be welcome here. But ࠋoki had asked; he could at least offer the truth. "Our mother gave it to us some five hundred years ago, as a token of her blessing." Which she had offered wholeheartedly, from the very start. Father had taken a bit longer to come around, but he had never stood in their way. "Though I doubt she had this exact scenario in mind at the time," he added wryly. 

"I hadn't known heartstones could facilitate communication," ࠋoki said, though that was plainly not the subject foremost on his mind.

"Neither had I," Loki admitted, closing the book with care. He'd read it cover to cover, and it was far too old and valuable for him to ask to take it with him. "But I am grateful to know it now. I had worried how he was faring, in my absence. We haven't been apart longer than a fortnight since we were boys, and the uncertainty... Suffice it to say I will be glad when I am able to reach him."

ࠋoki hummed in response, his mind turning with his own thoughts. The two of them were far too alike, and Loki couldn't help his smile. He stood and returned the book to its place on the shelf, reinforcing the spell that kept it protected. "Give Thor my best," he said, placing a friendly hand on ࠋoki's shoulder and turning to go. He still had a few more hours of daylight, and he wanted to make it to the pathway before then. He paused at the door to the little room where the rarer tomes were kept and made a split-second decision. "He'll wait for you forever if he has to," he said softly, his back still turned so that ࠋoki wouldn't have to bear the weight of his gaze as he processed his words. "Try not to make him, won't you?"

——ᚦ——

The pathway sucked Loki in, the feeling just as disorienting as it had been the first time; he feared it would always be so, no matter how many times he made this journey. The landing was a pleasant surprise, though... He was lying on something very soft, and though his head was still spinning he could make out that he was was indoors. He heard a soft groan from beside him, and before he could turn to investigate he felt the press of a warm body against his side and a strong arm slung across his waist.

"You came home early," came the sleepy rumble of Thor's voice in his ear, and then he was laying hot, open-mouthed kisses onto his neck. "Mm. Missed you..."

Loki's breath caught. This wasn't his reality—aside from the faint prickling feeling, he was very late in coming home to his Thor, not early—but he still felt out-of-sorts from the shift between realities and he missed Thor _so much_ and this felt so very good. "T-thor," he gasped, his head tipping back instinctively when Thor's kisses made their way along the line of his jaw. Oh, he didn't want to, but he had to stop this. "Th—" Thor's lips pressed against his own in a fierce, passionate kiss, and Loki moaned, the longing inside him only intensifying when Thor rolled on top of him and rested his weight upon him in that careful way he loved. "Thor," he managed when the kiss broke, a thready whine escaping him when Thor's lips returned to his neck, this time with a hint of teeth. "Need—need to talk," he panted, clutching his biceps desperately. He wanted this— _oh_ , how he wanted—but it wasn't his to take. 

"Mm, I know," Thor replied, sitting back on his knees straddling Loki's waist. His hands smoothed up and down his sides. "I'm sure you have all sorts of fascinating things to tell me about the conference. And I will listen to them, gladly... later," he promised him with a wolfish grin, so achingly familiar. "Right now, I intend to make love to my husband."

The words left Loki breathless. Husband? They were married, in this reality? Thor didn't look much older than the one he knew... How had—

Loki keened as Thor covered his body with his own again, as he stole another kiss and reached for the fastening of his trousers. "N-no. Wait," Loki gasped, though it was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do. Thor stilled immediately, pulling back a bit and frowning down at him in confusion.

"What's wrong, love?" Thor asked softly, running his fingers tenderly through Loki's hair. Loki whimpered and leaned into the gentle contact, missing his Thor so badly it hurt.

"I— I need to talk to you," Loki whispered once he'd caught his breath. "Let me up," he insisted quietly, and Thor moved off of him and extended a hand, helping to pull him into a sitting position. Loki drew his knees up to his chest and reached for a pillow, hugging it close both for comfort and to hide his desire. Thor was looking at him with such concern, and Loki wanted nothing more than to pull him close again and hold him and make love to him and lose himself in the fantasy that he was home. But he wasn't, and he couldn't take advantage of this Thor like that.

"I need you to listen carefully," he said seriously, and then he told his story in halting sentences, still affected by the intimacy they'd shared and having traveled between realities so recently. The worst of his physical need died down as he spoke, but the ache in his chest for love and comfort only intensified. "So I'm _a_ Loki, but I'm not your Loki," he concluded. "Your Loki is likely still at that conference you mentioned." 

This Thor seemed to be able to read him well—or perhaps any version of Thor was bound to be drowning in empathy for Loki. He took only a moment to process his words before scooping him up into a strong embrace. A little squeak of surprise escaped Loki before he relaxed into it and wrapped his arms around Thor's neck, a soft sigh leaving him as he buried his face in his shoulder. "Thor," he murmured, allowing himself to take strength from the familiar warmth of being in his arms.

"I'm so sorry," Thor murmured, his warm breath fanning out against Loki's hair. "I can't imagine how that must feel. It's bad enough to have you—I mean, my Loki—gone for just the week... And I know he's safe and coming home," he said with a sigh and a slight headshake. "I'm so sorry, love," he murmured, rocking them slowly back and forth. "Anything you need, anything at all, I've got you, all right?"

"Thor," Loki said again, the word heavy with brimming tears. He clung to him more tightly, taking in deep, calming breaths that were full of his scent. "Thor." _I miss you_ , he thought desperately. _I want to go home. Thor._

Loki pulled back slightly to wipe at his eyes, and in that moment a loud knock sounded at the door. Thor's gaze skittered over to him and he gave a brief nod; Thor called for the visitor to enter. A page pushed the door open, handing Thor an envelope marked with a strange seal. "T'was in the urgent pile, m'Lord," he said with an unusual accent that Loki couldn't quite place. He offered them a bow, sending frequent looks to Loki that he couldn't quite puzzle out, and then departed.

"What does it say?" Loki asked, feeling warm and safe and more at peace curled up there in Thor's arms than he had since he'd been torn from his own reality. He rested his cheek against his shoulder and let his eyes fall closed, taking comfort in his closeness.

For a minute or two after that there was silence, broken only by the rustling of paper. Loki became gradually aware that Thor had stiffened beneath him, that the pace of his heart had increased. He sat up properly, more alert now, and laid a hand against his cheek. "What is it?" he asked softly, gently turning his head to face him.

"It's ࠋoki," Thor said hoarsely, his hand lying limp with the letter held loosely between his fingers. "He's not at the conference." He swallowed thickly. "He's been kidnapped."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this reality, represented by the Old Norse letter ᚦ (thurisaz): Thor has not yet been coronated, and he and ࠋoki have been married for an uncertain period of time. Loki has arrived about 50 years later in their timeline than the point at which he left his own.
> 
> A point of clarification from the last chapter: Frigga hadn't yet taught Thor how to intentionally project his feelings to Loki, but he had been doing so unintentionally for quite some time. Loki felt him doing so the first time he thought solely of Thor while touching the stone at a time where Thor was doing the same—which happened while Thor and Frigga were having tea, right before their Talk.


	7. Albatross, Part I - ᚦ

——ᚦ——

"The page," Loki said, interrupting the raucous argument Thor and Odin were having about how to handle his other self's disappearance. Their father didn't seem to care for him very much in this reality, if his reluctance to act and the disdainful looks he kept shooting Loki's way were any indication. He was beginning to suspect that Thor and ࠋoki had wed so young to prevent Odin from deterring them. "The one who brought you the ransom note," he clarified once Thor's attention had turned to him. "Did you recognize him? I couldn't place his accent, but it wasn't Aesir. And he kept looking at me like he'd seen a ghost."

"You think he was one of the kidnappers," Thor said slowly, settling down into his seat. The prospect of a plan seemed to calm his fury somewhat. Odin remained standing, irritation radiating from him in waves. 

"Yes," Loki said, lacing his fingers together against the smooth wood of the council table as he thought. He met Frigga's gaze instead of Odin's, finding it far less distracting. "If I am right, he will have returned to his comrades by now with word that he has seen me, which is sure to cause dissension amongst them. Now would be the opportune time to act, before they have time to formulate a plan."

"And what do you propose?" Frigga asked, the most level-headed of the lot of them as ever. Loki gave her a tiny smile.

"I will offer myself in trade," he said simply, spreading his arms wide. Frigga's eyes zeroed in on the prominently-displayed bracelet on his wrist, and he could feel her examining the tightly-woven threads of seidr woven into it with her own. Thor shook his head immediately.

"Absolutely not," Thor said firmly. "I want him back more than anyone, but I wouldn't allow the same if it were you in his place, so it would be wrong to do so now." _Oh, Thor_ , Loki thought fondly. Always so noble, in any reality. Thor clasped Loki's hand in his. "You mean as much to another version of myself as my Loki does to me. I cannot let you sacrifice yourself. We will find another way."

Loki squeezed his hand tightly in return. "I'll be perfectly safe," he assured him, his tone gentle and soothing. "If they've managed to capture your Loki, they must have done so by binding his seidr." He indicated his bracelet. "It took two of me to manage it, in another reality, but I am protected from that now—not that ࠋoki's abductors could know that. We'll convince them that I am the true Loki, and that yours is an imposter. The page's testimony should work in our favor. I will allow them to place seidr-binding cuffs upon me in return for ࠋoki's release, which my bracelet will neutralize, and as soon as I'm sure you're both safe I'll escape." 

Frigga nodded along as he spoke; one vote in favor of his plan, then. Odin looked like he wanted to destroy something, which Loki tucked in the back of his mind along with his other suspicions. Thor released a heavy sigh, and Loki smiled; he knew him well enough to recognize reluctant assent. "Chin up," he said quietly, leaning forward on instinct and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. "I'll be fine, I promise." He gave him a sad little smile. "If I can't be reunited with my Thor just yet, helping the two of you return to one another is the next best thing."

"I will direct the scribes to have an official letter sent requesting an exchange," Frigga said, standing with the ransom note in hand. "We will inform ࠋoki's abductors that they have inadvertently absconded with a decoy, sent to maintain appearances at a conference the true prince had no interest in attending, and that Prince ࠋoki cannot abide allowing one of his citizens to suffer in his place." Loki nodded absently; it was more or less what he'd had in mind. 

"Thank you, Mo— You Majesty," Loki corrected himself, gaze falling down to where Thor still held his hand in both of his. Frigga had to walk by them to exit the room, and she paused when she reached Loki's side.

"I will always be your mother," she said, bending her head to press a kiss to his brow. "Thank you for everything you are doing for my son." 

Loki took in an unsteady breath as she left, discomfited by the burning fury of Odin's gaze trained upon him. "It will be some hours before we receive a response," he said to Thor after a moment. "There are things I would discuss with you, if I might impose upon your time?"

Thor had been lost in thought, but at this he returned to reality with a little smile. "Of course," he agreed easily. "Anything you need, remember?" He turned briefly to Odin with thinly-veiled contempt written on his face. "Father," he said with a nod of his head, his voice clipped. He stood and escorted Loki from the council room.

Thor led him along the familiar path back to their rooms, Loki's arm linked securely through his. He placed his opposite hand on Thor's forearm, soaking in the comfort of his presence after the rattling encounter with Odin, and waited until they were alone in a corridor along the way to speak. "Very little of this abduction makes sense," he began, casting a glance to Thor to gauge his reaction.

Thor nodded grimly. "I was thinking the same. They must have known Father would never accede to their demands. Asgard has remained steadfast in her policy of noninterference in civil conflicts since before I was born."

"Which means they are either setting themselves up to make a lesser request, hoping it will be granted more easily..." Loki hesitated to voice what he suspected. "Or they never had any intention of returning ࠋoki at all."

"But why?" Thor asked, a note of helplessness in his voice. He pushed open the door to their chambers, allowing Loki inside first and guiding them to sit beside one another on the couch. "If they wanted to kill him, they could have done. What is there to gain from the ruse?"

Loki had a guess, but he was even more reluctant to suggest it. "Thor..." Thor saw the anxiousness on his face and opened his arms; Loki gladly curled into his side. "Did you and ࠋoki have Odin's blessing, when you wed?" he asked softly, reaching for Thor's left hand and toying idly with the ring on his second finger. 

Thor inhaled sharply, and Loki lifted his head to meet his stunned gaze. "You don't— You don't think—" Whatever else had transpired between them, Thor didn't seem to have thought Odin capable of such a thing. Loki would have thought the same of his own father, but of this version he wasn't so sure.

"I don't think," Loki said gently, squeezing Thor's hand. "I wonder, I worry, I suspect. There may yet be another explanation. We will have to wait and see."

Thor sighed. "I am terrible at waiting," he groused, and Loki couldn't help but laugh.

"I know you are," Loki said affectionately, raising Thor's hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to his palm. "Hold me?" They had little else to do until a response arrived, and it would give Thor something to focus on other than their suspicions of Odin—not that Loki's reasons for asking were entirely selfless.

Thor gathered him into his lap wordlessly, and Loki curled up against him with his side pressed to Thor's chest and Thor's strong arm wrapped around his waist. Loki slid one hand behind Thor's back and laid the other upon his hip, his ear and cheek positioned to hear the soothing thump of his heartbeat. "Thank you," Loki whispered, determined to use these precious moments to soak up this feeling and forge it into the fortitude he would need to complete his journey.

"Thank _you_ ," Thor murmured in return, and Loki barely managed to hold back the needy sound that threatened to escape him when Thor started petting his hair. He could happily spend the rest of his life just like this, if only he were home. If only it were his Thor wrapped around him. Touches like these were always his undoing.

Thor seemed to sense the vulnerability he was feeling. "ࠋoki would permit me a kiss, if it would settle you," he said quietly. "And I know your Thor would forgive it."

Loki let out a shaky breath. "I may yet take you up on that," he said after a moment, burrowing in closer to him. "For now... This is more than enough." Thor hummed in response, and Loki let his eyes fall closed and allowed their closeness bolster him. 

He must have fallen asleep at some point, for the next thing he was aware of was being startled awake by a knock at the door. Thor tightened his arms around him, making a soft shushing sound in his ear and stroking his back comfortingly, and called for Frigga to enter. She smiled at them, a hint of worry shading her expression, and sat in the armchair opposite them. Loki felt a little uncertain, settled so intimately in Thor's lap in front of her when she knew he was not truly her son, but when he shifted Thor just held him tighter, so there was that decision made for him. 

"What news?" Thor asked, his voice tight with worry. 

"A meeting place has been set for the exchange," said Frigga, and Loki felt his hair flutter from the force of Thor's relieved exhale. "The coordinates fall upon an uninhabited Vanir hillside, far enough from civilization so as not to attract attention from the authorities and half an hour's ride from the nearest point accessible by Bifrost."

"Clever," Loki grudgingly admitted. "If we tried to show up with an army, they'd have a thirty-minute head start." 

"Horses have been prepared for the two of you and a select contingent of your personal guard," Frigga said as she stood to leave. "You should be ready to leave within the hour." She came forward and pressed a kiss to the top of each of their heads, and Loki felt the familiar warmth of a mild protection spell settle over him. He allowed himself another two minutes relishing the comfort of Thor's embrace, then let out a slow breath and stood.

"Come on, then," he said with a teasing smile, extending his hand to Thor. "No sense in making you wait any longer."

——ᚦ——

"It will take us thirty minutes at least to return safely to the Bifrost site with ࠋoki," Thor said, once more expressing his concern as to how Loki would fare in the meantime.

"I can give you forty, most likely, but you should try not to need them," Loki cautioned. "Remember that ࠋoki will not have access to his seidr, should something go wrong on your journey back. It will require another magic-user studying the specific binding spell to undo it."

"I still don't like the idea of you staying behind alone," Thor said with a shake of his head, his horse tossing its own restlessly beneath him.

"You're frightening him," Loki chided gently, reaching out to stroke the horse's snout. "Calm yourself. I can manage to feign helplessness for under an hour, I assure you."

Thor let out a huff of breath, clearly not appeased, and cast his gaze impatiently among the small band of warriors who would accompany them. His eyes lit up suddenly, which made Loki feel decidedly nervous.

"Lord Hoenir," Thor called, gesturing the man over to them. Loki didn't recognize him, but then it stood to reason that their personal guard would vary from one reality to another. He did vaguely recall the other three. "I want you to stay by Loki's side, after the exchange," Thor said, his tone indicating clearly that Hoenir ought to take his charge quite seriously indeed. "You are to protect him at all costs."

Oh, for all that he loved him, Thor could be _impossible_ sometimes. "They're hardly going to allow a hostile warrior to stay behind with their hostage," Loki said dryly. 

Thor's eyes were still sparkling, and it was good to see it, even as Loki wondered at what he would say next. "They wouldn't if they could see him, no," Thor returned easily, and a slow grin spread on Loki's face as he caught on. 

"Father never did give you enough credit for strategizing," Loki offered, and Thor accepted the backhanded compliment with a laugh and a nudge of his elbow into Loki's side. "Lord Hoenir, was it?" Loki asked, turning his attention to the warrior. "You'll need to stay in back as we ride, so you're not accidentally trampled," he said, extending his seidr in Hoenir's direction and beginning to cast. "You'll be invisible, but still able to be heard, so take care to remain quiet. And you are under no circumstances to take any action unless or until I specifically request your assistance. Understood?" 

"Understood, Your Highness," Lord Hoenir replied respectfully, and moments afterward he vanished from sight. Loki gave him a crisp nod, then turned and guided his horse into the Observatory along with the rest of their riding party.

"How long?" Thor called to Heimdall.

"Three minutes, my prince," Heimdall replied. 

"Not much longer," Loki said reassuringly, knowing the waiting was getting to him. Thor was ever a man of action; patience was difficult for him at the best of times. Having to exercise restraint while his lover—his _husband_ —was in need had to be driving him mad. 

One minute passed. Then two. "Do you trust me?" Loki asked suddenly, looking over to Thor to meet his startled expression. 

"Of course," Thor replied, extending his hand for Loki to take. He did so gratefully, then closed his eyes and breathed in, slow and deep. Magic rushed out of him as he opened his eyes, and the vision of Odin in all his battle regalia, mounted upon Sleipnir, took form before them. 

"It will need to come with us," Loki told Heimdall. He received a nod in return. He released Thor's hand and took hold of the reins of his horse as Heimdall slid his sword into the Bifrost mechanism, and they all disappeared in a flash of rainbow light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We remain in the same reality as the last chapter—ᚦ (thurisaz).


	8. Albatross, Part II - ᚦ

——ᚦ——

They moved along at a canter, two lines of three with Hoenir presumably trailing behind them. Loki rode front and center, Thor to his left and the shade of Odin at his right, and the three guards followed after on their own mounts. They crested the final hill twenty-seven minutes after they'd set out, and Loki sent off a quick prayer that ࠋoki would be well enough to ride swiftly. He had no desire to stay among his abductors any longer than was absolutely necessary.

A party of ten men were gathered at the bottom of the hill, ࠋoki nowhere in sight so far as he could tell. "I am Prince Loki of Asgard, and I have come alongside my father and brother to uphold my end of our bargain," he called out. "Please produce our citizen, that we may make the exchange."

There were scattered murmurs among the abductors, and Loki spied the page who had infiltrated the palace whispering earnestly among them. "How do we know you are the true Prince Loki?" one man called suspiciously, his burly arms crossed over his chest. Their leader, by the way the others looked to him.

Loki raised a brow. "Did your spy not find my husband and I in bed together?" he asked archly. "If that is not evidence enough, perhaps a demonstration..." He performed a series of conjurings, flashy and impressive to the untrained eye but requiring little concentration. He kept his attention on the leader as he worked, noticing with a sinking heart the way his gaze skittered over to the shade of Odin. He manipulated it easily, having Odin offer the man a small nod, and in an instant the man's attention snapped back to him.

"Enough," he barked, waving his hand through the illusion of a bird, turning it to smoke which quickly dissipated. "You have proven yourself. Come forward," he demanded. 

Loki shook his head. "Proof of life, first," he insisted, his heart still beating rather wildly at the confirmation that Odin had orchestrated this plot.

The man grumbled something to one of his men, who quickly dashed into the small forest at their back. He returned shortly after with ࠋoki trailing behind, wrists bound in exceedingly strong seidr-binding manacles; the energy radiating from them made Loki wince even at this distance. The chain binding ࠋoki's wrists together clinked with each step, and Loki could see the way he tried to keep his expression neutral even as he catalogued his surroundings.

"Well met," Loki called, little as he meant it, and set down his horse's reins. "Do not leave him alone with Odin, when you return," Loki told Thor quietly as he dismounted. He could feel the concern radiating from him, but he walked forward without a backward glance, ࠋoki taking a step closer to his rescuers with each one Loki took toward his captors. When they reached one another, the man guarding ࠋoki shoved him forward and reached out for Loki instead, closing yet another set of manacles around his wrists. Loki winced—they stung—but his bracelet absorbed the energy within them, and after about thirty seconds of discomfort he felt himself again, though he was careful not to show it. He stumbled a bit as he was led forward.

"You have what you came for," their leader growled up at Thor and the rest of them. Loki turned in time to watch Thor giving ࠋoki a hand up onto his horse. He was well enough to ride then—that was good. Loki was starting to fear what else these men might have interpreted from Odin's nod. "Begone with you!"

For a brief moment, Thor hesitated. Loki sent him the most blood-curdling glare he could manage, the sort that spelled death and destruction if he didn't high-tail his stubborn ass out of there that instant, and he turned to go, the rest of the riders following along after. 

——ᚦ——

ࠋoki assessed his doppelganger's face as they approached one another, cursing the binding of his seidr for the thousandth time. It was an excellent likeness, and his voice and mannerisms had been mimicked well; had he not known that he was himself, even he might have been fooled. Being cut off from his seidr was like having a vital sense removed; he couldn't _see_ , not in the way he usually did. Their gazes met for a brief moment as his captors released him and reached for the imposter, and ࠋoki simply couldn't read him. He didn't know who or what he was, how they had managed the disguise, how long it would last... It was driving him mad, not to know. But he looked up at met Thor's eyes as he ascended the short hill, seeing relief and worry both in his eyes, and did his best to settle his whirling thoughts. He trusted Thor; difficult as it was, to operate without his seidr, he would rely on that trust for now.

They rode swiftly away, ࠋoki casting glances over to the grim expression on Thor's face with considerable concern. He guided his mount to ride closer to Thor's, where they could speak to one another over the roar of the wind carrying sounds swiftly away at this speed. "What is it?" he asked, wishing he could reach out to his husband. 

Thor glanced over at him, very much still in battle mode. His plan wasn't yet fully executed, then. "We must hurry," he said simply. "It is another fifteen minutes to the Bifrost site, and the longer we take to arrive, the greater the risk becomes of harm befalling the man who took your place."

It had been a real person, then... ࠋoki had suspected a conjuration based on Thor's memories of him, given the startling likeness. "Of course," ࠋoki said, urging his horse just a tiny bit faster; any more and the animal would tire before they reached their destination.

To his right, their father and his mount flickered and disappeared. ࠋoki drew in a startled breath, and Thor cursed beside him. "I must go," Thor said urgently, drawing ࠋoki's attention back to him. "Stay with the guards, return home. Do not leave Mother's side, for any reason, until I have returned. I need you to trust me, Loki," he said urgently. ࠋoki let out a slow breath and then nodded his agreement. Thor gave him a crisp nod in return and pulled away from the group of them, turning around and racing back the way they had come. ࠋoki's heart flew away with him.

——ᚦ——

Thor raced back toward the site of the exchange, his heart thundering away in his chest. He should never have agreed to this, he thought desperately. His Loki would be safe, but at what cost? He rode for five minutes at a furious pace before he spotted something odd in the distance. He squinted, trying to make out the shape, and then startled at the realization that it was Loki... Floating along in the air?

"Loki!" he called, riding swiftly toward him. Loki caught his eye, fury in his own.

"Turn around, you damn fool!" Loki cursed, and he was close enough now that Thor could see that he wasn't floating at all; he was riding on horseback, only his mount (and presumably Hoenir behind him) were still invisible. 

"Forty minutes?" Thor quipped, bringing his horse about. Loki shot him a glare.

"Thank your father for that," Loki shot back, his voice clipped. Thor's heart skipped a beat. "Apparently he ordered my—well, your Loki's—swift and painful death. You hadn't been gone ten minutes before they tried to put an end to me."

Thor ground his teeth together, his grip on his horse's reins tightening. "I'll kill him," he growled; Loki shook his head.

"No," he said firmly. "Regicide is not the way to begin your reign. We will speak to Mother when we return; handle this diplomatically."

"He tried to have you killed!" Thor roared, fury pulsing through his veins. 

"Yes," Loki said quietly, eyes downcast. Thor felt a stab of guilt. 

"I'm sorry," Thor said haltingly. "I didn't mean..."

"We can discuss this with Mother and ࠋoki when we're back in Asgard," Loki replied. "Enough talk for now. We must move as swiftly as possible." He snapped his horse's reins, galloping toward safety.

——ᚦ——

ࠋoki was in his mother's arms in the Observatory, the two whispering quietly to one another, when Thor, Loki, and Hoenir came through the Bifrost. Thor ran to him immediately, wrapping him up in a tight embrace; Loki was glad he was safe. He spared a moment to spell Hoenir and his horse visible again, and when he turned back ࠋoki met his eyes over Thor's shoulder and gave him a respectful nod. Frigga had explained things to him, then... That was good. He bit down sharply on his tongue, trying not to let his longing for his own Thor overwhelm him, as he watched the reunited Odinsons hold one another.

Loki spied Odin approaching, walking the length of the rainbow bridge on foot, and tensed. Thor noticed a moment later, turning on his heel and hiding ࠋoki (his seidr still bound) behind him. "Father," Thor said in greeting, his tone cold. ࠋoki looked surprised; Frigga looked between the two in concern. 

"You brought them both back?" Odin snapped, fiery gaze locked on Thor alone. "One troublemaker wasn't enough of a nuisance in my kingdom; my heir, in his infinite wisdom, thought we needed two?" ࠋoki looked like he'd been slapped; Loki could empathize. "I was trying to rid of us a problem, and you've gone and doubled it!"

"You admit it, then?" Thor returned, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. "I know you orchestrated this. ࠋoki is your son, my husband, a Prince of Asgard! What illness has clouded your mind that would bring you to have him killed?"

"I am not the one who is ill!" Odin roared. "He has bewitched you, perverted your mind! It was bad enough when I thought it to be a mere boyhood indiscretion, but then you ran off and _married_ him behind my back. And then this one appears—" Odin waved in Loki's direction. "—and I am confronted with the disturbing reality that no matter the timeline, my heir is apparently unable to stop himself from fucking my bastar—"

A resounding crack echoed throughout the room. Frigga had struck Odin across the cheek, and was now quivering with barely-contained fury.

"How dare you," she whispered, her voice at once steely and trembling. "How _dare_ you give that child to me and then suggest—" She took a step back, her hands shaking. "Guards," she called, her voice carrying easily. "I order you to place the King under arrest for high treason."

Odin spluttered, even as the guards exchanged uncertain looks. "Ridiculous," he said, puffing out his chest. "I can hardly commit a treasonous act against myself—"

"You have confessed, in front of multiple witnesses, to a plot to murder your successor," Frigga said stonily. "You have committed treason against Asgard herself, and as her Queen _I order you detained_." 

The guards dallied no further. Loki cast a temporary binding spell against Odin in the moment they began to approach, depriving him of his magic long enough for the guards to close seidr-binding cuffs around his wrists. 

Odin shouted promises of vengeance as he was dragged out of the Observatory, but Loki paid him no mind. He was still reeling from what had just happened; from the knowledge that there was a world in which his often-strained relationship with his father had deteriorated into assassination attempts. ࠋoki was wrapped up in Thor's arms, and Thor seemed to be giving himself whiplash trying to evenly divide his attention between the two of them. Loki smiled softly and shook his head the next time their gazes met. _Focus on your husband_ , he tried to communicate. Thor relaxed a little, at least, so perhaps he'd gotten the message. 

ࠋoki took a few steps forward after Odin's shouts had dissipated into faint echoes, removing himself from the circle of Thor's arms. "Mother?" he asked, his voice small. She turned to face him, wiping the tears from her eyes, and answered him before he could ask the question.

" _No_ ," she said vehemently, placing her hands squarely on his shoulders. "It is not true. I would never have betrayed my family like that." She drew him into a tight embrace. "Oh, my son," she whispered. "I'm so grateful you're home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, both this universe's ࠋoki and our Loki are Jotun; in addition to all the other great reasons for slapping Odin, Frigga timed it well to avoid any reveal of ࠋoki's heritage. I imagine she'll tell him someday soon, now that Odin is out of the way, but I agree with her that now was the Wrong Time for that information. (Plus I'm not ready to spill the beans to Loki just yet!).
> 
> We remain in the same reality as the last chapter—ᚦ (thurisaz).


	9. Perpetuity - ᚦ | ᚨ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have not read the comics. I discovered the Contemplator's existence while researching the Grandmaster; his character is entirely based on his Wikipedia page. (Sorry, comic fans.) 
> 
> The only thing you need to know about him for the purposes of this story is that he is one of the Elders of the Universe, and he knows just about everything there is to know about the universe. Also the internet tells me that the Grandmaster can read minds; I ran with it.

——ᚦ——

Odin had commissioned the cuffs that bound ࠋoki's seidr himself, as it turned out—and he was thoroughly uninterested, locked away in a cell as he was, in assisting in their removal. It took Loki and Frigga two days of researching with ࠋoki and attempting counterspells to finally release the enchantment upon them. By the time they had, Loki was itching to leave this reality. He'd spent the better part of a day wrapped up in Thor's love, nearly able to pretend it belonged to him, and then two more watching it bestowed upon another. It was too much, and the sad glance Thor sent in his direction when they told him the news said he knew it. 

"I wish I could help you find your way back to him," Thor said regretfully. He reached out for Loki's hand and then hesitated, as if unsure of his welcome. Loki bridged the gap and held on tightly.

"Thank you," Loki said quietly. He watched Thor and ࠋoki exchange a meaningful look, and then ࠋoki stood, kissing Thor's brow before leaving the room. Loki bit his lower lip, having seen more than he knew what to do with in that glance. "I think I know what you're going to say," he began, still unsure how to finish his own sentence. He trailed off into silence instead, suddenly filled with a sort of fluttering nerves in his stomach like he hadn't felt in centuries.

"And?" Thor asked, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Loki's ear. Loki's eyes fell closed as he leaned into the touch, nuzzling into Thor's palm. "I cannot imagine the pain you are in. If I could help ease it, if only a little..." Thor raised their hands to his lips and pressed a chaste kiss to Loki's palm. "I have ࠋoki's blessing," he added; hoping to reassure him, Loki knew.

"I know he would forgive my weakness, my Thor," Loki said, opening his eyes. "But it would still feel like a betrayal, in my heart." He pressed a kiss to the hand cupping his cheek before pulling away from it. "As alike as you are, you are not him. I swore myself to him long ago, and I intend to do everything in my power to keep that vow." He gave Thor a sad smile. "No matter how much I wish to lose myself in your arms... It would only be a fantasy. And my Thor can find no such solace." He leaned forward and brushed his lips against Thor's cheek. "Thank you, truly. But I cannot."

"Your loyalty is admirable, and I respect your decision," Thor replied, a somber smile of his own reaching all the way up to his eyes. "On his behalf, however, I urge you to hear me now. If ever the day comes when you feel as though you might break, if you continue alone... He would much rather you bend than fall to pieces. He needs you to return to him."

"I pray it will not come to that," Loki returned, though he felt worry and doubt wriggling their way into his heart. Out of all the infinite realities, what were the odds that he would come across his own in his lifetime? "I am not the only one among us with troubles," he reminded Thor—certainly not in an attempt to distract from his own difficulties. Thor saw through him easily, based on the half-smile he gave him, but allowed him to change the subject.

"Father's trial will be... difficult," Thor admitted. "Even more so for ࠋoki than myself. And I admit that I am ill-prepared for the burden of kingship. But Mother has agreed to remain regent for several centuries more, that I may grow into it, and I have faith that ࠋoki and I will find our way in time." He squeezed Loki's hand. "If nothing else, this I can promise you: I will never take for granted that I have him by my side."

"Good," said Loki, shifting closer. He drew in a slow breath. "Hold me?" he asked, meeting those clear blue eyes that always held such love for him. This, at least, he could allow himself. Thor opened his arms for him, as he always did, and Loki fell into them with a sigh, allowing himself a brief respite before he moved on.

——ᚨ——

"Ooh, look, he's awake," came an unfamiliar voice. Loki groaned, turning his head to the side and struggling to blink his eyes open. The after-effects of the jumps between realities were getting worse... Was traveling through the space between them having a detrimental effect on his body?

"Oh, no, nothing like that," the voice continued, though Loki was sure he hadn't spoken. "We've just had you drugged for the last few days, that's all. Nothing to worry about." His voice was bright and cheery, in stark opposition to the frankly terrifying words which Loki was still struggling to wrap his mind around. "Needed time to phone a friend, call in a few favors... And all for you, Lucky-boy, huh? —you don't mind if I call you Lucky, right? What am I saying, of course you don't..." Loki heard a soft clicking sound, and felt a small, sharp pain in his forearm that quickly dissipated.

"There ya go, little more of the antidote... Topaz, make a note, mortals are too fragile for a full dose of that shit..." Loki's eyes chose that moment to start cooperating, and he stared up into the widely-grinning, blue-painted face smiling down at him with no small amount of trepidation. "There you are, look at those pretty eyes. I knew there as a reason I was helping you. Y'know, I don't do a lot of things for a lot of people, that makes you pretty special... But then there aren't a lot of things left that I haven't seen before, either, and you, my friend... Well. Someone from another reality appearing in my own personal hellhole, that's brand-spankin'-new for sure. Ooh, spanking, that would be fun. If only we had the time..." He pushed a few buttons on a keypad, and the restraints that had bound Loki to the table he was lying on clicked open and rotated back into the table.

By the Norns, what was going on? "Hello," Loki began, sitting up slowly. His throat was dry, and he felt a little dizzy. He looked between the man who had spoken to him and the short woman in strange armor standing beside him, then turned back to the man and spoke. "I am Loki of Asgard—"

"Yep, got it, been there done that," the man cut him off, that same grin still stretched across his face. He reached out to flick lightly at Loki's forehead with his thumb and forefinger. "Got it all out of your head. Have to say, there's an awful lot going on in there, for a mortal. Didn't expect so many thinky-thoughts. Then again, I try not to think at all really, if it can possibly be avoided, so maybe my baseline is a little whacked... Out of whack? What is it that the kids are saying these days..." He steepled his fingers together below his chin, his brow furrowing for a moment, and then burst out laughing. Just Loki's luck, to fall into the lair of a giggly madman... "Ah, you're fun, Loki-loo. I could play around in your head all day. If it weren't for the teensy little side-effect that my life as I know it is threatened by your presence, I might just keep you... But we can't have Elders imploding, that would kind of invalidate the dictionary definition of the word 'eternity', and then that's a whole lot of dead trees for nothing..."

The more the man spoke, the less Loki understood what was going on. "If you have read my mind, then you know of the reason for my journey," he tried again. "I apologize for imposing upon your space, and I assure you that I will leave it as swiftly as possible."

"Yeah, you're a long way from home, huh kiddo? No worries, I've got a, uh, friend here, and he's going to fix you right up..." He turned around, and only then did Loki notice the bald man sitting cross-legged in the corner of the room. "Meet my old buddy the Contemplator; he's a real piece of work, this guy. No fun at all, not even a little bit—spent ten billion years trying to get him to crack a smile. But if you want to know something, he's the guy to go to." _Boring,_ he mouthed in Loki's direction. "But it turns out he can help you with your little problem, which therefore helps me with my problem, which is really the only thing that matters, so... Hey, buddy!" He waved his hand in front of the Contemplator's face, then let out an exaggerated sigh when he received no response.

"Forgive him, he likes to, uh, contemplate things... Where as I tend to prefer to do them, if you know what I mean," he said with an exaggerated waggle of his brows. "Oh, right, me! My favorite subject, how could I forget... I'm the Grandmaster, displeased to meet you," he said, extending his hand for a brief moment and then taking it back before Loki could even think to move. He chuckled to himself, as if laughing at a private joke. 

"The Contemplator, the Grandmaster," Loki echoed. "Those are titles, not names. Who are you really?" he asked, his voice breaking on the last word due to thirst and disuse of his voice. 

The Grandmaster clucked his tongue, simultaneously chiding and amused. "Feisty, this one," he said, turning to the woman beside him. "Topaz, get him some water. And you, Your Monotonousness," he said, turning back to the Contemplator and performing a theatrical bow. "If you could trouble yourself to join us, we could send this itchy little flea away sooner rather than later." He turned back to Loki with that ever-present grin. "No offense, Lo-Lo. I'm sure you're great and all. It's just you don't belong here, and your very existence makes my skin crawl," he said conversationally. Out of the corner of his eye, Loki saw the Contemplator stand. "Now, I could always just melt you—Topaz wanted me to melt you, but to be fair, Topaz wants to melt everyone, don't you darling—ah, yes, thank you," he said, accepting a glass of water from Topaz and passing it to Loki. Loki accepted it, casting a quick spell to ensure it wasn't poisoned before drinking deeply. The Grandmaster laughed. "Oh, Lucky. If I wanted to kill you, you'd be melted. That's much more fun to watch than poison. But if I melted you—"

"The entirety of all of the Universe would remain in imbalance for all eternity," the Contemplator intoned, in a deep, monotone voice which reminded Loki oddly of Heimdall. 

"Yeah, yes, that," the Grandmaster said, waiving his hand impatiently. " _Now_ he decides to join us," he stage-whispered to Topaz. "Very grave. But more importantly, the other Elders might start to notice. The ones who care more about death and destruction and blah blah blah than just having a good time, or, y'know, being boring," he added in the Contemplator's direction. "And if they cotton on that there are multiple realities out there to take over, well... Let's just say that one show I _don't_ want a front-row seat to is Galactus vs Galactus, set in my own backyard." 

"It is difficult enough to keep the powers of good and evil balanced in a single reality," said the Contemplator. "Should the forces of either slip from one reality to another, the balance in each would grow greatly skewed. This cannot happen."

"Must not," the Grandmaster corrected. Two of the oldest beings in the universe, squabbling like children on a playground, Loki thought wryly. "Should not, ought not. We would prefer that it did not. We would like for it not to. For someone who knows everything in the universe, your grammar can really leave something to be—"

"Cannot," the Contemplator echoed. "Should a being of great enough power to shift the cosmic scales traverse realities, the ကမ္ဘာ့ဖလားသစ်ပင် would respond. Both realities would be snuffed out of existence." Loki frowned; the Allspeak was ancient, but clearly not so much so as these two. It hadn't been able to translate. 

"...ah," said the Grandmaster, obviously not having expected that answer. "Well. There's that then. So!" he said brightly, clapping his hands together and turning back to Loki. "We figure it'll take, oh, a billion years, give or take, before the teensy-tiny distortion you make in the each reality you pass through is noticed by another Elder, or a similarly powerful being," he said matter-of-factly. "So we spent a day or so figuring out how to get you back home before then. And then we had a super fun tapas party," he said seriously. "And then Topaz here, my dearest little mortal, reminded us that you won't be alive in a billion years, which, I mean, what a downer, am I right? We were doing so great until then. Totally had a plan; all ruined. Wasted a great bottle of Gramosian whiskey thinking that one up. But I digress. So we really have, what, four thousand years, if you're Lucky—ha, I made a funny—to get you home, which kind of threw a monkey wrench in the works. I mean, I can't remember the last time I did something meaningful that look less than ten thousand at least." 

"You built Sakaar in three," Topaz reminded him.

"Ah, yes," said the Grandmaster. "Wouldn't call that meaningful; don't think there's anyone who would. But thanks, honey." He patted the top of her head. "Soo it was back to the drawing board, Lo-Lo, and I gotta say, I was stumped. Me, stumped! I know you don't know me, but I gotta tell ya, it doesn't happen very often. Been way more than four thousand years since the last time," he said with a sage nod. "In fact, there was this one time I—"

"What you said before," Loki said, addressing the Contemplator. "ကမ္ဘာ့ဖလားသစ်ပင်." He was certain he was butchering the pronunciation, but he'd done his best. "Do you mean Yggdrasil? The world tree, the source of all that is, the heart of the branching of realities?"

"Sassy," said the Grandmaster, before the Contemplator could respond. "I haven't been interrupted since the year three billion and twelve. I can't decide whether or not I like you, actually, and all the points in both columns are for the same reasons," he told Loki with a toothy grin. "Fourteen billion years old, and I can't decide whether I like 'bitchy' or not..." 

Loki did his best to ignore him. Of the two of them, it seemed he'd have the best chance of getting a coherent response out of the Contemplator. "That is what your people call it, yes," the Contemplator replied. "Though I don't know that you truly understand it." After everything that Loki had experienced over the past few weeks, he could agree that he likely did not. "ကမ္ဘာ့ဖလားသစ်ပင်, Yggdrasil, sigma, the Universe. The sum of all realities, its branches ever increasing."

And with every moment, more realities born that Loki might have to make his way through. "You said you had a plan?" Loki asked, looking between the two of them searchingly. "To get me home?" He didn't dare hope yet, though. Even if he could trust them, even if they were right, four thousand years was a dreadfully long time, for Loki. The rest of his life.

"Ah, yes," the Grandmaster said brightly. "We messed with your little bracelet thingy while you were asleep. Added some features." Loki looked down in alarm, reaching out with his seidr to test the enchantment. The spell to prevent the binding of his powers was intact, but there was something else there as well. Something entirely unfamiliar. He tried to reach into it with his seidr, but it wouldn't budge.

"It is a homing beacon, of a sort," the Contemplator explained. "When next you travel between realities, the space between them will latch onto your existence. You will skip past any realities in which events diverged from your own before the moment of your conception." That was a mental image Loki could have done without, he thought with a grimace. He shook it off quickly.

"Give or take a few dozen years," the Grandmaster added. "The universe doesn't like to think in terms of anything less than a millennium."

"If you can do that, can't you send me home properly?" Loki asked. "Surely there must be a way. I can feel the difference in the resonance between the matter which makes up this reality that which is a part of me. With your knowledge, can we not seek out the reality which has a matching signature to my own?"

"Nope," said the Grandmaster, popping the 'p'. "Or rather, yep. That was Plan A. If you had a billion years or so to wait around for us to check them all one by one, we could definitely do that. As it is, this is the best we can do," he said with a shrug. He pulled a nail file from his pocket and started spinning it on the flat of his palm absently.

"Well," Loki said, for lack of any other way to summarize this bizarre experience. "I thank you for your assistance. It should cut down the time of my journey greatly."

"Not exactly," the Contemplator interjected. "It makes all the difference and yet none at all. There are now an incalculably infinite number of realities you will not need to search through, and a lesser infinity that you will... But an infinity is still infinite," he said with a half-shrug. "In every moment there are infinite possible choices to be made, each potential outcome branching off to create another reality. And from each of those new realities sprouts another infinity of choices; your Yggdrasil, and its infinitely branching paths." He took a step closer to Loki and gestured to the glass of water that sat on the table beside him.

"There are many things I could do in the next instant. I could pick up this glass, or leave it where it is, or knock it to the ground. If I leave it be, then the next moment, will I pick it up then? What about the one after that? What would happen differently, based on exactly when I make that choice?" He met Loki's eyes, and his gaze was so deep and knowing and ancient that it took Loki's breath away even as he tried to comprehend what he was telling him. "If I knock it down, will the glass break or its contents merely spill? How many pieces will it break into, and of what shape? Will I clean it up before someone steps on it? What could happen elsewhere if even a single shard of glass traveled beyond this room, beyond this planet? We are split into infinite combinations in every moment, as each choice we are presented with causes an infinite number of new realities to be born to reflect each possible outcome. An infinity contained inside an infinity, ad infinitum. The worlds you reach may be more familiar than they might otherwise have been, but there are still unimaginably many to traverse. Reducing the length of your journey by powers of infinity is, in practice, the same as not reducing it at all. What is one percent of everything? As unimaginably vast as all of everything, even as we know it to be lesser."

"Why did you bother, then?" Loki asked, desperation and disappointment pushing him to snap. "If there's no guarantee I'll make it home alive, what good did it do you? In fact, I don't see how it would help you for me to return home at all," he said hotly. "I may be an _insignificant mortal_ , but I understand physics. Matter has passed between realities as I traveled between them. Food, water, clothing. The amount of increase or decrease is minimal, but it is still there. If your Elders would notice so small a distortion as myself, then surely they would notice any imbalance whatsoever. Returning me home will not eliminate the imbalances I have left behind."

"It would, actually," said the Grandmaster. "According to old 'Platey here, anyway." _Of course,_ Loki thought somewhat viciously. _Nothing original to say, just tired of not being the center of attention._ "Ouch," said the Grandmaster, clasping a hand over his heart. "That one hurt, Loki-Lu." He turned to grin at the Contemplator. "I think I do like bitchy," he said thoughtfully.

The Contemplator ignored him. "The Universe will set itself to rights, once your အသက်ဝိညာဉ် returns to your reality of origin." He noticed the furrow in Loki's brow and elaborated. "Your spirit, your seidr, your soul. That which makes you _you_. An apple or a canteen of water might travel from one reality to another, creating faint ripples in the pond but otherwise leaving life undisturbed. But you... You are a living being. Your reality is not meant to be without you, and others are not built to withstand the addition of your presence. The Universe will notice, once you have returned home. It will reshuffle relatively insignificant portions of matter in order to equalize each reality."

"And if I don't make it before my lifetime runs out, or I am killed?" Loki asked. His didn't like thinking about the possibility that he would never return to Thor, but he wasn't fond of the idea of leaving the entire Universe in an imbalance that would lead to its eventual destruction, either.

"That'd be the other little, ah, feature we added," the Grandmaster interjected, gesturing to Loki's bracelet. "If you die, it will preserve your body and your seidr, and continue blipping you from reality to reality until you end up where you belong," he said brightly. "Guaranteed to solve the problem in under a billion. No nosy Elders, no creepy monster twin battles, no snuffing out of universes or whatever you said," he said, waving a hand in the Contemplator's direction. "Easy-peasy, huh Lo?"

It sounded rather awful, actually, but he supposed he shouldn't complain as he'd be dead anyway. And it meant he didn't have to worry about his failed experiment causing trouble for the entire universe, which was a relief. "I suppose," he said faintly, still feeling rather overwhelmed.

"Great," said the Grandmaster, clapping Loki friendlily on the shoulder. "Now let's get you literally anywhere but here, okay, because having you nearby is starting to make my eye twitch."

——ᚨ——

Later that night, alone in his bedroom on the small ship the Grandmaster had given him with nothing but the faint buzzing of the life support systems to keep him company, Loki placed his hand on the stone that rested over his heart and tried to reach out to Thor again. He would make planetfall in a day, and he would need to begin searching out a new pathway once he landed. But for now, there was nothing to do but wait and think of Thor.

 _I love you,_ he thought, love and longing and hope pouring out of him. _I love you, I need you, I miss you._

He gasped in surprise at the surge of returning emotion he felt then, though this time he managed to keep hold of the pendant, clutching it even more tightly. _Love, worry, relief, terror, confusion, sadness, love, hurt, fear._ Oh, Thor. _I love you,_ he thought again, desperately. _I love you. I'm safe. I'm sorry. I miss you. I'm trying so hard to come home to you._

 _Love. Relief and joy. Sadness. Longing. Worry, though less intense than before. Trust._ Loki could have wept. _Longing again. Loneliness. An ache that never left._ Loki returned all those feelings just as strongly, but sent along a wave of love and determination with it. _I will not give up,_ he promised him, praying that his feelings would convey the setiment at least somewhat accurately. _I will not stop fighting. I will come home to you. I love you. My Thor._

Loki lay awake a long time that night, closer to Thor than he had been since he'd left home. Their conversation was like waves, an ebb and flow of adoration and comfort that lapped at his toes in the sand before flowing back outward to sea; to Thor, leaving Loki secure in the knowledge that it would return. He never wanted to let this go, but his body was still weak from whatever the Grandmaster had used to drug him, and this was a new sort of magic; utilizing it across realities was taking more out of him than he'd expected. He sent a little ripple of regret along with the next wave, the ghost of a yawn. Thor's response was tinged with sorrow and understanding, and Loki made an attempt to send back a kiss. What he got in return made him feel warm and melty inside, exactly as he did when Thor would give him a soft, sweet kiss that took him by surprise, so he imagined he'd succeeded. His fingers uncurled from around the pendant, his arm falling back down to his side. As his breathing evened out, for the first time in a long while, Loki smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this reality, represented by the Old Norse letter ᚨ (ansuz): The Grandmaster and the Contemplator are 'friends'. Nothing else is really defined, as it doesn't affect the plot.


	10. Ersatz - ᚱ

——ᚱ——

Loki groaned, clutching at his throbbing head. Everything hurt, actually. He took in a deep breath, and smelled metal and exhaust. Earth, then, or a planet like it.

"Sleeping Beauty's awake!" a far-too-loud voice called. Fuck. Was he going to be drugged in every reality he entered, now? Though he didn't feel drugged so much as concussed...

"Sorry, pal," came the voice again, and Loki opened his eyes to see a red suit of metal with a face in it smiling down at him. "You kind of popped into existence in the middle of one of our training drills, which carries the risk of, well, getting smashed." He gestured to the Loki-shaped hole in the floor, which Loki just now realized he was lying in. No wonder he ached all over. What being of Earth could have thrown an Asgardian with such force?

"Don't worry, we've got the big guy contained now," the metal man continued. "Though the rest of the team's filing in, in case you're a threat." Loki saw several other men and women gathered in a semicircle behind him, all wearing costumes of varying ridiculousness. What was that holiday... Hallow's Eve? Had he fallen into the middle of it? "Between you and me, I hope you're not," he added with a wink. "You're far too pretty to blow up."

Loki blinked, rather bemused. "I'm seeing someone," he said, the seidr flowing through his veins having knitted his bones back together well enough that he felt he could make an attempt to sit up. A metallic hand reached out to assist him, and he grasped it firmly, largely relying on the other man to pull him up. 

"Pity," the man replied, eyeing Loki with a curious combination of desire and wariness. "Who's the lucky duck?" 

A figure touched down beside the others with a loud thump at that very moment, and Loki couldn't help but grin. "Him," he said, tracing every line of Thor's beloved face in his mind's eye as he stood from his crouch, hammer in hand. Secure in the knowledge that his brother would keep him safe, Loki collapsed forward into the arms of the metal man and allowed himself to be enveloped in merciful darkness.

——ᚱ——

"—I'm just saying, I was hitting on him, and he—"

"You what? You claimed it was the Hulk who struck my brother."

"Yeah, buddy, I didn't _hit_ him. I was hitting _on_ him. You know, flirting? Trying to get someone into bed with you? Anyway, all I'm saying is there's a big difference between 'I'm seeing someone' and 'he's my brother'—"

"You dare besmirch my brother's honor?"

"Besmirch? Is that really still a word people use? I know you've got this whole Shakespearean drama thing down pat, but that's going a little overboard, even for you."

"Loki is the King of Asgard, and you will treat him as such—"

"Not sure he's in the right state of mind to rule anybody, if he says you're banging and you say you're brothers, though the bonk on the head might have had something to do with that..."

"One more word, Stark, and I'll—"

"Thor," Loki groaned, blindly reaching out for him. "Stop threatening people with your hammer and get over here." He was lying on some sort of bed, it seemed; the sheets were quite soft. Expensive. The lights were far too bright, even with his eyes closed, so he didn't bother trying to open them. He opened his arms instead, at the sound of Thor's footsteps shuffling closer, and tugged him into bed beside him, his brother lying on his side next to him and reassuring him with his solid warmth. "Mmm. 's nice," he murmured, turning his head into Thor's chest and nuzzling into him. "Too bright," he said a moment later, the words somewhat muffled. "Lights?"

"J, lights please," came the voice of the man Thor had been arguing with; oddly familiar.

"Of course, sir," came a third, and Loki let out a sigh of relief when the lights dimmed. 

"Thank you," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to Thor's sternum. Thor drew in a sharp breath, and Loki hummed in question, slowly opening his eyes. "What's wrong?" he asked quietly, and only then did his memory come crashing down upon him. His journey between realities, his injuries, the metal man. Who was apparently in the room with them. He peeked over Thor's shoulder to confirm and recognized the face, though he looked much smaller without his armor. 

Thor caught the change in his expression and frowned at him. "Loki..." The heartache in that word! Loki marveled at it. What had happened between this Thor and his Loki? "Why have you come here? Is Mother all right, Asgard safe?"

Ah. "I don't know," Loki said, which was clearly not a satisfactory answer as far as Thor was concerned. Loki levered himself up into a sitting position, his head spinning somewhat less than it had before, and Thor moved with him. "I assume they're fine, if they were when you last saw them," he added, prepared to launch into his story.

Thor's gaze grew stormy before he could continue, however. "What game are you playing?" he demanded. "You know well the last time I saw Mother. Saw any of Asgard." 

"I—"

"When last I saw you, you told me that Father was dead and I would never see you again," Thor said, his voice full of anger and sorrow both. "I understood, little though it pleased me. I brought my fate upon myself." He was trembling faintly now, Loki was startled to realize. "But for you to come here now and weave tricks with words rather than speak plainly... What is your intent? To wound me?" His gaze fell. "Then you have succeeded."

The hurt, the distrust in his voice... What had brought it on? He reached out for Thor, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Brother," he whispered, waiting for Thor to meet his eyes. Their clear blue was shadowed with confusion and pain when he did, but Loki would not be deterred. "I love you dearly, and would never seek to harm you," he swore. "I know not of the matters of which you speak, for I did not live them. I am not your Loki; I come from another reality altogether. Your world is but one stop of many on my journey home." 

Loki cupped Thor's face in his hands as his brother turned his words over in his mind. "I ought to move on as soon as I am well enough," he said then. "But I could never stand to see you in pain; much less if I am the cause." He pressed a kiss to Thor's brow. "Let me help you," he beseeched him. "Tell me everything."

——ᚱ——

Thousands of lightyears away, Heimdall entered ࠋoki's throne room and sunk down onto one knee. "My King," he said, bowing his head. "I bring news of Thor."

"Oh?" ࠋoki asked, raising an uninterested brow even as his traitorous heart thundered along in his chest. "Do tell."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this reality, represented by the Old Norse letter ᚱ (raido): Heimdall did not allow Sif and the Warriors Three to go to Earth in search of Thor; thus the events Loki set in motion after Heimdall committed treason against him in the movie (sending the Destroyer to Earth, killing Laufey, turning the Bifrost on Jotunheim) did not happen.
> 
> It has been over a year since Thor's banishment. He was recruited by the Avengers to help protect humanity, as his super-strength and advanced healing powers were still intact. He eventually regained his full powers, as well as the use of Mjolnir, through risking his life to protect humans. Odin remains in the Odinsleep, and Loki is King of Asgard.


	11. Transgressions - ᚱ

——ᚱ——

Thor shook his head. "I cannot return," he said. "My banishment was Father's last edict, and ࠋoki has made it clear he will not reverse it."

"Time changes many things," Loki reasoned. "The political climate of Asgard may be different, now. He may have found a way to—"

"And you don't think he would have come for me, if he had?" Thor snapped, standing abruptly and turning away from Loki. He stared out the window overlooking the New York skyline, his arms folded across his chest. "No," Thor said, more subdued. "There is no going back for me. Were I to call, Heimdall would not answer." He chuckled wryly. "Norns know I tried often enough, in the early days."

The gears in Loki's head started turning. "But he would answer me," he said slowly, earning a half-turn and a look of disbelief from Thor. "Surely Heimdall would have noticed my presence by now; or else he would then, were I to call," he thought aloud. "He would inform his king, and I know myself well enough; however much ࠋoki has learned about me, I will either be deemed a threat or a curiosity. Worth investigating either way." Loki drummed his fingers against the tabletop, nodding to himself as he ran over his plan in his mind. "Yes," he said at last. "I will call for Heimdall, and beg an audience with myself. And then I will plead your case," he said earnestly, looking up to Thor with a smile. 

Thor stared at him incredulously for a long moment, after which his entire body slumped as he seemed to accept Loki's sincerity. "Who are you?" he murmured to himself, shaking his head slightly. He blew out a long, slow breath and came to sit beside Loki on the couch. "Why?" he asked, a note of helplessness in his voice that broke Loki's heart. "Why would you put yourself in danger for me, knowing now what I have done?"

"You have more than made up for those things," Loki said firmly, taking Thor's hand in both of his. "Mjolnir proves that, though your tale alone would have told me so." He drew Thor's hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it; he didn't miss Thor's sharp intake of breath, though he couldn't quite puzzle out the look in his eyes. "I am Loki and you are Thor," he said simply, in answer to his question. "I would do anything for you."

He hadn't anticipated the pain that sprung to Thor's eyes at his words. Thor pulled his hand away from him, and Loki ached to comfort him though he had no idea how. "You keep—doing things like that," Thor said haltingly, and understanding started creeping up on Loki. "What are... What am I, to you?" 

Oh, thought Loki. _Oh._ "Everything," Loki said softly, unconsciously reaching for his pendant. He searched Thor's eyes to see if elaboration would be welcome before continuing. "Lover, brother, confidante, friend, partner, counselor and counseled, my heart and my love and my life," he admitted, and his eyes fell closed as he felt a wave of love and relief and longing coursing through him from his heartstone. He held up a hand to stay the Thor beside him as he reached back out to his own, sending him tenderness and love and a hint of regret along with the promise of _later_. Melancholy clouded Thor's answering affection, though Loki also felt his understanding. 

That made three times, now, that they had managed to connect to one another. Loki wished fervently to maintain the connection, but it required thinking of nothing else but Thor to sustain the link. As he'd been in the middle of a conversation when it had been established, he was sure to be interrupted soon with concern for his wellbeing. Better to cut the conversation short now, with an explanation, than do so abruptly later and leave Thor to worry. In the future, he thought wryly, he ought to add a request to leave him be if he fell quiet with his pendant in hand to the story he told upon appearing in a new reality.

Indeed, Thor looked faintly concerned when Loki opened his eyes, though he was also clearly still processing all that Loki had said before falling into his trance. "Forgive me," he said. "My pendant allows me to exchange emotions with my Thor, when we both think of one another at the same time. Opportunities for communication are rare, so I try to make the best of them when they arise." 

Thor's eyes grew shadowed. "I would have given much, to be able to communicate with my Loki this past year," he said quietly. "To express my regret, my sorrow." He met Loki's eyes. "I know it is not the same, as you are in this situation through no fault of your own," he said. "But I do understand what such an opportunity would mean to you."

"You are too hard on yourself," Loki chided gently, beginning to reach for Thor's hand before remembering himself.

Thor took note of the aborted gesture, though he responded no further. "If that is so," he replied, "then it is just recompense for the many years when I was not nearly hard enough." He leaned back against the couch, tipping his head up to stare at the ceiling. "I do not deserve ࠋoki's forgiveness, or what you offer to do for me now. Asgard might well be at war now, as a result of my thoughtless actions." He released a heavy sigh. "I believe you, when you say that you would do anything for me. And yet I fear... I fear that before my banishment, I would not have done the same for you," he admitted quietly. 

Part of this Thor had broken when he had lost his home, Loki realized. He functioned well enough, day to day; went through the motions of friendship with his teammates, found meaning in protecting the innocent. But his heart was badly damaged. Loki had lost his home, yes, and the people he loved—but he had met versions of them throughout his travels; taken comfort in their similarities to those he had left behind. What must it be like, for Thor, to have spent all this time on an unfamiliar world, eking out a life that might have made him happy, had he retained the option to return home when he wished? Embarking upon a journey of self-realization, with no way to gain closure with those he felt he had wronged? Loki couldn't quite imagine it, but he could see the toll it had taken on the man he loved, and it wounded him in turn.

"Do you love him?" Loki asked gently. 

Thor let out a bark of humorless laughter and scrubbed his hands over his face. "In the way that you mean? I don't know," he replied. "I had never thought on it, before." He turned his head to meet Loki's gaze. "But I imagine that the fact that I was not immediately repulsed by the idea means something. And when you touch me as you have, I feel..." He trailed off; heaved a heavy sigh. "Right now, all I know is that I miss him, fiercely. ࠋoki and Mother and the Warriors Four, hiking and adventuring and sparring, Idunn's apples and the smell of grass on a summer's day... Even the air here is different." A shared understanding passed between them, and Loki knew what he was going to say before he said it; felt it just as strongly himself. "I miss home."

"Well then," Loki said, standing, "I suppose I'd better head outside. I doubt your friend would take kindly to the Bifrost leaving scorch marks on his carpeting," he said, lips quirked teasingly.

Thor laughed; truly, this time. "I have missed you," he said wistfully, staring up at Loki. 

Loki gave him a kind smile. "You will see him again, I am sure of it," he said. "Do try not to worry overmuch while I'm gone, won't you?" And he headed for the elevator with a flourish of his cloak.

——ᚱ——

"Heimdall," Loki called out, standing outside the tower Thor lived in. "I seek an audience with your king. May I come through the Bifrost?"

There was no immediate response, and for a brief moment Loki feared that he wouldn't be able to help this reality's Thor after all. But then the sky opened up, a great crack resounding in the air, and Loki was surrounded with rainbow light. He exhaled a breath of stale Midgardian air, and his next inhale brought with it the sweet, clean scent of an Asgardian summer. "Heimdall," Loki said in greeting, his eyes flitting about the Observatory curiously. No one else was there—not in plain sight, at least.

"His Majesty the King has requested your presence," Heimdall replied, sheathing his sword and gesturing for Loki to walk alongside him. "If you will come with me."

They walked the length of the rainbow bridge in silence, though Loki did not find it intimidating. That was Heimdall's play, he imagined; to discomfit Loki with the quiet, in the hope that Loki would let something slip while striving to fill it. Loki was more interested in observing Asgard, however. The village that lay between the palace and the Observatory was teeming with life, citizens going about their daily business; selling their wares and making purchases, young children playing with a ball along the side of the main street. Many stopped and bowed to Loki as they passed, respect in their eyes. ࠋoki had been a good king, it seemed; Asgard appeared to be as prosperous as ever. 

Two guards stood posted at the great golden doors that led to the throne room, and it took only a wave of Heimdall's hand for them to push them open, though Loki could see the confusion in their eyes. They strode through the entrance, the doors closing behind them with an ominous clang. Loki saw then that the room had been cleared of all the typical courtiers and councilors and guards, leaving Loki very nearly alone with the king—a highly unusual state of affairs, Loki knew, even accounting for Heimdall's presence. 

Heimdall sunk to one knee as they approached the throne, and Loki made to follow suit; he was not king here, nor had he ever been in any reality, and he would not fail in his quest to help Thor over a matter of pride. "My King," said Heimdall, at the same moment as ࠋoki's voice rang out.

"None of that," said ࠋoki; Loki caught the dismissive wave of his hand out of the corner of his eye, and slowly stood back up from the half-crouch he'd descended into. "I'll thank you not to fill my dreams with the frankly disturbing image of me kneeling to myself," he added, his tone a perfect affectation of the bored, unruffled monarch with far better things to do than suffer the presence of his current company.

Loki could have bristled; instead he smiled. This game, he could play. "Your Majesty," he said with a respectful bow of his head. "Indeed; I imagine there are others you would prefer to have on their knees." He made a show of glancing about the empty room. "One in particular, I should think." The temperature of the room dropped several degrees; Loki continued, undeterred. "I cannot help but wonder why, then, I have just left him on Midgard, when he would be of far better use to you here."

ࠋoki stood abruptly, his cloak swirling about him; Loki saw the way his fist clenched as he stopped himself from reaching for Gungir. Yes; he had been a fair ruler, that much was clear. But as Loki had suspected, he was also a lonely one; pushed nearly so close to the brink as Thor had been, in his brother's absence. Whatever the reality, whatever the circumstance, Loki knew one thing for certain: he and Thor were not meant to be separated.

"Do not attribute your own weaknesses to me," ࠋoki hissed. "Asgard prospers, as much as if not more so than it did under my father's rule. I averted war with Jotunheim, after that _fool's_ careless actions. I—"

"Can you not even say his name?" Loki interrupted softly, meeting ࠋoki's eyes unflinchingly.

The air crackled with seidr. "Is that what you think?" ࠋoki spat furiously. "That I am too weak to rule without him, that Asgard will fall to ruin unless _Thor_ guides her future?"

"I marvel at you," Loki said honestly. "I could not do what you have done. The crown is a heavy weight to bear, and I cannot imagine how difficult it must have been to carry it alone all this time." 

All the fight left ࠋoki at once, his shoulders slumping ever-so-slightly. He did reach now for Gungir, and the sight of him leaning heavily against it evoked images of Odin in Loki's mind. ࠋoki was far too weary, for a king scarcely over a year into his rule. "Even Father never tried to rule alone," Loki added quietly.

ࠋoki laughed bitterly. "Even you cannot be so naive as to imagine that Thor would content himself with a place at my side, were he to return," he said sharply, retaking his seat on his throne.

"He has changed greatly, since last you saw him," said Loki. "You could appoint him as your closest advisor, as you were once to be to him." ࠋoki scoffed. "I heard him defend your honor and your rule to the only friends he has left in the world," Loki continued. "All he wishes for is to return home. He would gladly accept no role in Asgard's governance at all in exchange for the privilege; of that I am certain. But I do not think that is best for either of you, and I don't believe you do either."

"You know nothing," said ࠋoki, words which might have been cutting coming out simply tired. But Loki recognized the look on his face; he was considering it. "One conversation," ࠋoki said at last, meeting Loki's eyes. "I will speak with him, and I will make my decision, and then you will continue on your journey, regardless of what I decide." 

Loki breathed out a sigh of relief. "Thank you," he said, offering ࠋoki another bow. Heimdall swept past him, heading for the doors; Loki hesitated briefly before following him. "He has missed you dearly," he added, attempting to gauge ࠋoki's reaction. 

All he received was a sigh. "Go," said ࠋoki with a wave of his hand. "Before I change my mind." 

Heimdall moved again toward the doors, and this time Loki followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick note on why Odin is still in the Odinsleep: in the movie, he woke from the Odinsleep early because his children and his realm were in imminent danger. Frigga mentioned how sorely he needed the time to heal, and that she didn't know how long it would last; clearly the few days he managed were not enough, seeing as he died a few short years later. In this reality, there's no pressing need for him to awaken before he's truly ready to; banishing Thor was his idea in the first place, and Loki is handling the ruling of Asgard perfectly well (his own emotional stability aside).
> 
> We remain in the same reality as the last chapter—ᚱ (raido).


	12. Insouciance  - ᚱ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read this chapter when it was originally posted, please note that two new scenes have been added to the end of the chapter. Thanks!

——ᚱ——

The vial rolled slowly across the table, the quiet reverberation of glass on wood the only sound in the room. Thor raised a hand and caught it before it could fall to the floor.

"Drink up," said ࠋoki, hands clasped together where he sat at the opposite end of the table from Thor.

They were seated in a small receiving room inside the Observatory; as far into Asgard as ࠋoki would allow Thor, for the time being. He would have preferred to meet outside the Realm Eternal, but he couldn't afford to risk anyone overhearing what he had to say.

Thor eyed the bright blue mixture warily. "What is it?" he asked, rolling the vial between his thumb and forefinger.

"Non-negotiable," ࠋoki replied, curt and businesslike. "I could have hidden it in your drink; instead I've allowed you the choice." He met Thor's gaze, eyes fixed and unblinking. "Drink, or this meeting is over."

It took nothing more than his next breath for Thor to make his decision. It was in the very air around him, everything he had yearned for this past year; he had never thought he would be again, but he was _home_. He would do almost anything to avoid having to leave again. 

Thor uncorked the vial and tipped back its contents, grimacing after he'd swallowed. "You made that taste awful on purpose, didn't you?" he teased, the friendly jibe falling easily from his lips after centuries of habit. He realized his mistake almost immediately, his eyes darting apprehensively to ࠋoki as soon as he'd spoken. "Forgive me," he said hastily. "I have missed my brother, but I meant no disrespect to my king."

"You consider me as such, then?" ࠋoki asked, leaning back in his chair casually. "You would swear your fealty to me?"

"I do, and I would," Thor said seriously, setting the empty vial down carefully on the table. "It is your rightful place. I forfeited any right to succession when Father banished me." 

"The people would support your claim regardless," ࠋoki said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "You know as well as I that they have always favored you, and the council has the power to reinstate your title now that Odin is no longer the reigning monarch. The return of your powers supports the argument that the stripping of your title was also intended to be reversed." 

An ache settled deep in Thor's heart at the reminder that his father was dead, but it only strengthened his resolve to do whatever it took to return home and cherish the loved ones he had left.

"Then I will sign a formal writ of abdication, voluntarily waiving those rights which I have already in effect relinquished," Thor offered. "I have no desire to rule, ࠋoki. What's more, I have come to realize I would have been ill-suited for it. I only wish to return home; to reunite with my friends and family, and serve Asgard in whatever way you would have of me."

ࠋoki hummed thoughtfully, eyeing Thor appraisingly. "You have indeed changed," he mused. "I nearly did not believe him, that double of mine."

Thor chuckled wryly. "He told me things I had difficulty absorbing as well," he admitted. "Though the more I think on them, the more I think he had the right idea." He smiled at ࠋoki, bittersweet and fond. "You usually do," he conceded. "Would that I had listened, in my youth." It had only been a year since his banishment, but it felt as though several hundred had passed; as if he had aged incalculably in that time. Looking back, Thor found he could see nothing but faults in the selfish child he had been.

"We always did perform best when we worked together," ࠋoki allowed, a glimpse of the brother Thor remembered showing through his kingly bearing. "My brains and your brawn..." A hint of a smile crossed ࠋoki's lips, and Thor grinned in turn.

"We did," Thor agreed. "Though you seem to have done well enough in my absence." Thor reached out with his seidr to the heart of Asgard, a soft smile curving his lips as she welcomed him. He felt her presence wrap him up in a warm embrace, and a tiny sliver of peace settled within him. "She is hale and happy," he said, a paternal sort of fondness in his voice. He raised his eyes to ࠋoki's, grateful. "That is thanks to you."

Thor had not anticipated the venomous look that overtook ࠋoki's face at his words. "Of course," ࠋoki said, his tone deceptively mild. "Of course you would still feel her, despite your transgressions, whereas I..." He trailed off, his expression shuttering. "It is always you, isn't it? Best loved, no matter how much or how little you have done. And why shouldn't it be? You are the son of Odin, are you not?" ࠋoki shoved his chair back from the table, the legs scraping violently against the floor, and began to pace the length of the room. "Why shouldn't you follow in his footsteps? Ravage worlds, steal their greatest treasures, prop their people up as monsters so your own will think nothing of their endless slaughter... For what is it worth, the life or a monster? What good could it bring the Realm Eternal? It may slave over the workings of her government, work itself to the bone in service of her interests, but always it will be a _monster_ , unworthy to hear her call..." 

Thor watched ࠋoki pace, bewildered and with growing concern as he worked himself into a frenzy. "ࠋoki..." Thor stood slowly, coming around the side of the table to approach him. "Peace, brother." He raised his hands in supplication. "It was not my intent to wound you."

"It never is," ࠋoki said bitterly, his eyes downcast but his pacing halted for now, at least. "And yet you manage it with alarming frequency." His expression twisted then, and Thor knew that he had revealed more than he had meant to. Thor opened his mouth to respond, but ࠋoki beat him to it. "Let's get on with this, then," he said briskly, his face a blank mask now. "Point one. Odin yet lives."

Thor reeled. He planted a hand on the table and rested his weight against it, grateful in that moment for its sturdiness. "Y-you said—"

"I lied," ࠋoki said simply, showing no sign of remorse—or any other emotion, for that matter. "He fell into the Odinsleep shortly after your banishment, and the burden of the crown fell to me. To this day we remain uncertain if he will ever wake, and I thought it best not to give you false hope that he might reverse his edict."

It was more than Thor could process, to be given hope that he might see his father once again and then have it dashed again so quickly. "Brother—"

"Point two," ࠋoki continued crisply. "I am not your brother."

Thor sat down heavily in his chair, staring up at ࠋoki in disbelief. "What madness is this?" he demanded. "What has come over you, that you would tell me such lies?"

ࠋoki's answering grin had teeth. "These are no lies, _brother_. Not this time. Though that is yet another irony, that the man who raised me so often punished me for telling falsehoods when it was he who lied to me from birth."

Dread began to coil tightly in Thor's chest, snatching the breath from his lungs. "I beg you, speak plainly, brother," he pleaded. "For you will ever be so in my heart, whatever secrets of our blood you have uncovered."

ࠋoki stared at him for a long moment and then raised a hand, turning it this way and that as though admiring his nails, and Thor watched in bewilderment as his skin began to turn blue. It begun at his fingertips and slowly spread along the rest of his body, and ࠋoki simply watched himself change as though observing one of his experiments. He raised his eyes to Thor's as the change overtook his face, speaking only as it reached his eyes. 

"Point three," ࠋoki said, his voice sharp and cutting, and understanding flooded Thor as his eyes flashed and then turned blood red. "I am no mere orphan, no bastard son, no innocent child brought in from the cold." Horns began to grow out of his head, their tips curling into points, and the Jotnar's trademark tribal lines traced themselves onto his skin. "I am ࠋoki, son of Laufey, _brother_ to Thor, raised by Odin and Frigga as their own even as they knew I could never grow to fit the ideal that the sons of Asgard are brought up with. I am _Jotun_ , I am a seidrmadr, I am tricky and mischievous and a sneak and all the other things you never stopped your friends from saying I was. I am nothing like what the son of Odin ought to be, for I am not one and never have been. And yet!" 

ࠋoki stalked forward, each step he took toward Thor leaving an icy trail of frost on the ground. " _I_ am the one who is king, _I_ am the one who rules Asgard in Odin's stead, _I_ am the one suffering sleepless nights to keep the land I was raised in safe. I! I who am a _monster_ ," he spat, bending forward and taking Thor's chin in his hand, tipping his head up to meet the fury in his eyes, "sacrifice _everything_ for Asgard and her people, fight for scraps of their grudging respect, ever living in the shadow of the Mighty Thor's greatness. And through all of it—" his grip on Thor's jaw tightened "—I know that should I ever be revealed as what I am, they would turn on me, these people I protect. Every. Last. One." He released his hold on Thor, his breath coming in uneven pants. "So I will ask you again, _Odinson_ ," he hissed. "Would you still swear your fealty to me? Would you kneel before the throne and vow to serve Asgard and her king, knowing him to be a _Jotun monster_? ANSWER ME!" he roared, his face twisted in hurt and anger and pain, and something inside Thor broke. All this suffering, and for what? Where had it gotten them?

Thor moved before his brain could catch up with his body. ࠋoki's lips were soft against his, his cheek cool against his palm. Thor swallowed the stuttering breath ࠋoki released and curled his fingers around his neck, holding him there as he had often done. They kissed forever or for mere moments; to his dying day, Thor would never be able to say. He smoothed his thumb over the violet flush on ࠋoki's cheeks when they parted, eyes alighting upon every detail of his beloved face, more the same than it was different.

"Yes," Thor said breathlessly, staring into stunned red eyes inches away from his own. "Yes. For I care not what you are. I know well _who_ you are, and for that I love you dearly." For a moment the world stood still, and then Thor moaned as ࠋoki fell upon him, their knees knocking together in his haste. ࠋoki's hands sunk into his hair, and Thor wound an arm around his back to steady him as ࠋoki settled against him in the chair, pressed as close together as they could manage. This kiss was not nearly so chaste as the last had been, and Thor found the hand that held ࠋoki's neck creeping upward, his fingers carding through inky hair until they accidentally brushed against the base of ࠋoki's horn. ࠋoki whined, sending a jolt of arousal through Thor, but the sound seemed to have shaken ࠋoki from his trance; he pulled back, wild-eyed and hair mussed, the both of them breathing heavily as Thor awaited ࠋoki's judgement.

"You mean it," ࠋoki said, his voice wavering slightly; a hint of a question. 

"With everything I am," Thor swore, cradling ࠋoki's face in his hands. "I only regret that it has taken events such as these for me to see what has been right in front of me all along."

"Even like this," ࠋoki whispered, staring at the contrast between his own blue fingers and the soft golden skin of Thor's cheek. "Even as I am now, you would..." His eyes went suddenly wide, and he slipped one hand into the pocket of his robe, producing a second vial which he pressed into Thor's hand. "Drink," he said breathlessly, his eyes still on Thor's kiss-swollen lips.

"What—"

" _Drink_ ," ࠋoki echoed urgently. "Before it is too late."

Fear pooled cold in Thor's gut at the words, and he quickly unstoppered the vial and gulped down the greenish liquid inside. It tasted far more pleasant than the first had, he noticed. 

ࠋoki relaxed against him once he'd drunk it down, twining Thor's hair around his fingers with one hand while the other traced the line of his brow. "ࠋoki," Thor said warningly. He deserved an explanation, after that.

"An antidote," ࠋoki explained, half his attention at best on what he was saying. The rest was fixated on Thor, which would have pleased him under any other circumstance. "For the first tincture you drank." He drew his thumb over Thor's bottom lip; despite himself, Thor shivered. "You must drink the second within thirty minutes of the first, or else you will retain no memory of what happened in the interim."

 _Clever_ , Thor thought, somewhat distracted by the soft press of ࠋoki's lips along the line of his jaw. "Mm. Is this really— the place—" Thor tried, losing his train of thought entirely when ࠋoki tipped his head so that his horn brushed against Thor's hand, another of those needy little whines falling from his throat. 

"Yes," ࠋoki breathed against his lips, stealing another kiss; and who was Thor, to argue with his king?

——ᚱ——

Loki very nearly paced a hole in the carpet waiting for Thor to return. He would have managed it, he was certain, had Stark not interceded on the rug's behalf and ushered him into a guest room to wait. By the time the telltale crack of the Bifrost sounded outside, Loki was beside himself with worry. He ran for the stairs, bounding down them at lightning speed and intercepting Thor just as he walked into the building.

"Where in the nine have you been?" Loki demanded, his hands coming up instinctively to rest on Thor's broad shoulders. He looked Thor up and down, seeking out any sign that harm had befallen him. "You were gone for _hours_. I have been terrifi—" Loki's eyes stopped on Thor's neck, catching sight of an injury after all, though not of the sort he had anticipated. "Well," he said, taking a half-step back, amusement overtaking the majority of his ire (though his heart still thumped rapidly in his chest). "I suppose I have my answer."

Thor rubbed his hand over the love bite sheepishly, though he showed no regret. "I did not mean to worry you," he said in apology. "Only..." He cleared his throat, his cheeks flushing red. "You can be rather distracting," he muttered, looking pointedly away from Loki, who found his embarrassment rather amusing. "And the horns..." Thor got a rather glazed look in his eyes at that.

"The what?" Loki asked, not familiar with the euphemism; but then Stark was coming around the corner, eager for news.

"Soo, how'd it go? You ditching this popsicle stand?" Stark asked, clapping Thor on the shoulder in a friendly manner.

Thor beamed. "I will return to visit, my friend, and the Avengers may always call upon me when Earth is in need. But yes," he answered, his smile warm and full of hope for the future. "I am returning home." 

"That's great, buddy," Stark said genuinely. "We'll miss you down here, but family is important. I'm glad you and your brother made up."

"Oh yes," Loki drawled. "They made up rather thoroughly." 

Stark's eyes narrowed at the comment, and he scanned Thor critically; Loki saw the exact moment he noticed the ring of teethmarks decorating Thor's throat. His mouth moved soundlessly for a few moments, and then abruptly snapped shut. "Nope," he said, shaking his head. "I need a couple dozen drinks before I open that can of space worms." 

Loki laughed as Stark walked rapidly away, looking fondly back to Thor. "It is good to see you in such good spirits again," he admitted. "I had worried over your mental state, before."

Thor met his gaze soberly. "I will ever be grateful for what you have done for us. We have much to discuss still, he and I... We each have wounds which have not healed, and some which never may. But whatever we must face, we will do so together from this day forward, and we have you to thank for that."

"I ask only that you try to be kind to yourself," said Loki, taking Thor's hand in his own. "And speak to Mother, yes? She's always been good at reminding me to look on the bright side," he added, and the two shared a knowing smile.

"What will become of you?" Thor asked after a moment, curious and concerned both.

Loki smiled, attempting to channel some of their mother's optimism. "With any luck, I'll soon have a reunion of my own."

——ᚱ——

"You might have at least tried for inconspicuous," Thor griped good-naturedly, lounging in ࠋoki's bed later that evening.

ࠋoki trailed his fingertips over the mark he'd left, admiring it. "Would you truly have wanted me to?" he asked, genuinely curious. 

"No," Thor admitted, catching his hand in his own and drawing it to his lips to kiss. "I would bear proudly any mark you would bestow upon me. I am glad to be yours, and to have it known. My heart belongs to you, and I am overjoyed to be home."

ࠋoki sighed. "It won't be easy," he cautioned. "Even without—this," he said, waving a hand between them to encompass the evolution of their relationship. "You and I... Much has passed between us. And now the crown places an additional burden on our shoulders..." Another wall between them, if they let it form one. 

"I know," Thor said simply, pressing a tender kiss to the pad of each of Loki's fingers. "You are worth fighting for, brother. I will meet each challenge we must face without fear in my heart, knowing that I have you by my side."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the lack of our hero Loki in this chapter. I had too much fun writing these boys!
> 
> If you're enjoying the story, it would make my day if you would let me know what your favorite reality has been so far! And as always, feel free to request one for Loki to pop into :)
> 
> We remain in the same reality as the last chapter—ᚱ (raido).


	13. New Content

Two new scenes have been added to the end of the previous chapter. I had originally intended for them to be a chapter of their own, but they were too short, and they really did belong with the previous one. 

I will delete this placeholder chapter when the next is ready to go up, but I wanted to make sure that no one missed our Loki's reaction to Thor's return!


End file.
